I know this jumps around, but this is my life, in a nutshell. A constant work in progress. So try not too judge to harshly. Constructive criticism much needed.
I can remember the exact moment I opened the box. Inside lay two thin, yellow books; one for me, and one for Cassy. I pulled out the letter, almost as an afterthought.
I will always be here for you. I love you. Mom
I flipped through the thick pages, noticing each dog-eared page. What were you trying to tell me?
Each time I think of you, I promise to send you a kiss on the wind. And I promise I'll be counting the days until I can see you again. -Marin McKay
The first words I read I would hold close to me while you were gone, which would be most of my life. I had the strong childlike hope that we would be a family again. You and Daddy would stop fighting and Cassy and I would be happy. We would all be together again. But everyother weekend when we went to see you, you weren't changed, and Daddy would barely speak to you. I realized nothing would ever be the same.
When I was young, I believed in you. I thought the world of you. When things in my life didn't turn out, or I had a bad day, the first person I wanted to call was you. Despite your neglect and your absence, I thought your approval was everything. But I didn't know the truth. I didn't know the failure you would turn out to be. I didn't know the heartache and worry and stress you would bring in my life. I didn't estimate the deciet and manipulation. When I was young, I had a book of words you sent to me; I had a book to believe in, to tell me what you wanted me to know. I had a book of meaningless poems that you marked, telling me that you wanted to be there for me more than ever, and that being apart wouldn't change us, or our relationship. I had a book of lies.