A Letter I'll Never Send

Dear Mama,

Since the day I was born, you've dubbed me your sunshine. In my 18 years, not a day has gone by where I haven't heard you call me sunshine. Mama, I'm no sun. I don't shine, and I'm not warm. I'm cold to the touch, and I think it's because I'm missing parts of me. There are pockets of empty space inside me where things like compassion and empathy should be. I can love, I can feel, I can cry, but they're stunted. Muted. Why can't I feel what others do? What you do? Why can't I love anyone enough to call them my sunshine? 

You've always been there for me, Mama, even when I told you to go away. Even when I refused your help. I've hurt things between us, I've damaged things, but I always come back to you. 

You were alone when I was born. Sure, your parents and sisters were there, but it's not the same. For five months you were alone. And then you met Dad. Your first date together was taking me on a walk through the park in my stroller. I was the flower girl at your wedding when I was 3. I love him, and I love you. But whenever something bad happens, you always remind me that it's you and me. Against the world. Just the two of us.

Is that true? I don't think I know anymore.

There are things I can never tell you. 

I can't tell you that sometimes I go days without feeling any real emotion. Or that sometimes my heart slows down so much I feel like I may faint. You can never know about my nightmares that bleed into reality. Or how sometimes I panic so strongly, fighting to breathe with black spots dancing in my eyes until I pass out.

Mama, you're my favourite person in this world, but there are things I can never tell you. There are things I can't process, memories I'm still trying find. How can I tell you everything when I don't even remember all of what has happened?

How can I confide in you when this letter alone chokes me?

I feel, but I don't. I feel the wrong things. I know what I'm supposed to feel, and I know how to fake it, but there are emotions I don't experience.

I don't feel compassion, and I'm the farthest thing from empathetic. Rarely do I feel sympathy. I'm guilty of many things, but I've never felt shame or remorse. Is something wrong with me? Am I missing something?

Mama, don't you hear me screaming? Don't you hear me dying every night? I died that night 3 years ago and I don't think you've noticed. Are you at fault for that, or am I too good at lying?

I miss you. I miss being young and honest and open with you. I miss telling you every part of my day, and spending hours on a new drawing for you to put on the fridge. I miss when my problems were solved simply by one of your hugs.

I miss when I knew what to say.

Goodnight, mama.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

We do make mistake and we do know regret. A very strong letter. We learn late. Love is a gift and we do abuse her. Thank you Lexi for sharing the powerful letter.
Coyote

[Richard M]

Thank you Lexi for sharing with me in your Reading Request. I feel the emotion and depth of feeling and thank you for your strength and courage in sharing here. Life is too short Lexi and it will only hurt you. Make contact with her sweetie and let love flow again. I implore you to send the letter! (((HUGS))) my friend

[wordman]

this is very touching,i wonder how many people deal with this daily

[Chris Shaw]

Your letter is really moving, it is full of pain and longing. As a Mum and a Nan to three teenage/young adult grandchildren who live with me, I implore you to send that letter. She would want to know, don't keep her on the periphery, bring her back in so she can be there for you when you need her. An open relationship is always best, hiding things causes confusion and hurt. I am hoping this is fiction Lexi, but somehow I don't think it is. You have expressed your feelings to me a stranger perfectly, give your Mum a chance to help you.

Chris

[Askew]

Thank you for your advice Chris. I want to send this, I want to let her know what things are like, but it feels so awkward after hiding things for three years. I don't want to, but I can't help resent her just a little bit for not noticing on her own. I shouldn't resent her because I know how well I hide things, but if she noticed and brought it up, it would take the pressure of having to bring it up myself.

[Chris Shaw]

Believe me kids are exceptional at hiding stuff. She may not know. Give her the benefit of the doubt and send it. Miracles may follow :)

[Askew]

I don't know if I'll do it anytime soon, but I'll definitely give your advice some though :)
Thank you again Chris

[Chris Shaw]

If your Mum is anything like me, she would be hurting if she felt you were doing the same. Just saying. Try and pluck up the courage.

[trying_to_write]

This letter actually brought me to the verge of teras. There is so much pain and remembrance and longing in it, it really tugs at your heart. Beautifully written.

[Askew]

Thank you! Out of everything I've written, I think this hurt me the most. The entire time I was crying as I thought about how I'll never have my mom back the way I used to, and how it's my fault. I'm really glad I was able to put it into the proper words, and hearing that you nearly cried is the greatest compliment I could ever receive. Thank you so much!