At this point in my life, you are nonexistent. I can’t say that I don’t think about you, because that would be a lie. I can’t say that I haven’t thought about you for years, either, because that would also be a lie. I’ve thought about you before it was even physically possible to have you.
Hey Dad, You know, I sometimes wonder if you still read my blog after that one time you decided to go through it. You were so persistent to find something about you, and I felt bad, because I didn’t really talk about you. Not because you don’t play a big role in my life, but because I […]
I think that we have established that our relationship is an interesting one. As a baby, or even a child, I couldn’t tell if I was a Daddy’s or a Momma’s Girl—but if I had to guess, I was probably an Oma’s Girl. I don’t have too many memories of you from my baby years, which is totally ridiculous, since you’ve always been present.
Hey Jo. You probably saw this post and thought, “well, it’s about time!” And I don’t blame you for that. I kind of made your letter last on purpose, because I knew that you are actually going to read yours. So I guess I’m kind of a sadist.
Hey Bri, I bet you’re wondering why, of all things, I would call you my best frenemy. I think it’s pretty simple: you are always either my best friend or my worst enemy. We’re sisters and so close in age, that we literally grew up together. We went through a lot of shit together, and we know way too much information about each other. There really isn’t much else to it.