Dear Mom and Dad

Dear Mom and Dad,

I didn’t have fun on our trip to the beach last year.

All the week before at school; it sat simmering neutrally in the back of my mind, flavored with neither excitement nor dread. I packed my bags and on Friday we left. Every song on the radio sounded like static. Funny thing is I liked all those songs, but with each one I was just waiting for it to be over and the next one to play. When we got there I went in the ocean and felt the waves wash over me. With each wave; I waited for the next one in silent dread. I hate talking to dad because some days he says work was good and I have to congratulate him and some days he says work was bad and I have to sympathize with him. I get tired of the game. Then it occurred to me that I get tired of knowing how I should react and reacting because I don’t have real reactions. Not anymore. I think I did once but I don’ t anymore and I don’t know why. Sometimes I want to say nothing at all but then you’d ask me what was wrong and I’d have to say something. I’d have to tell you what’s wrong with me. But I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But that one time I said nothing and you asked what was wrong; I realized something was.

All the week before at the beach; it sat simmering in the back of my mind. School. 

At school I wait for the beach. At the beach I wait for school. During the day I wait to go to sleep. And when I go to sleep I wait to wake up. In middle school I waited for high school and in high school I wait for college and while I live I wait to die and I don’t want to die, but I hate living.

Please Mom; Dad; I love you and I’m sorry I scared you but you have to let me go.

Because I packed my bags and on Friday we left. And racing through the front of my mind was the fact that the car was low on gas. So we stopped by a gas station and then I realized I was hungry, and so was he, so we ate. Then we thought if we wanted to keep eating we needed jobs. So we kept driving till neither of us could stay awake, then we pulled into an empty lot and slept in the car. Right as we were about to fall asleep; the sun was setting; so we both got out of the car and mom; I saw the sunset. Like I didn’t just know the sun was setting; I actually saw it. I realized I’ve been living in the dark. I only saw shapes of life; but now I see life in full colour. Dad; I watched that sunset and I fell asleep with the sunset still burning behind my eyelids and I realized that I can breathe. Like, your breath actually slows down when you’re about to sleep and I just noticed everything that I never noticed before and I realized that for once I wasn’t thinking about the future as I went to sleep; I was thinking about the feel of his hand, warm and secure in mine, I was thinking about my breathing, and I was thinking about how good the greasy gas station pizza was (don’t worry mom; I brought my toothbrush and did actually brush my teeth for once), but most of all I was thinking about that sunset and the colours. All the colours. Life is so beautiful.

I don’t know if I’m going to college anymore. But I’m ok with not knowing. Mom, I can always come back and pick up my education right where I left off. That could be in a month. It could be in a week; it could be in a year; or it could be never; but anyone one of those would ok and I just want you to please trust me, trust me with my life and know that even if we decide to come back in a week; this won’t have been some spontaneous reckless, decision we made for nothing. Because I remembered that I’m supposed to enjoy life, not just endure it. And I never want to forget that again. I want to feel everything in life, the highs and the lows. And I want to do it with him. We’re finally living life the way it’s meant to be lived, so please don’t try to stop us. We’ll come back home when we’re ready. 

Love you both,

Jenny

Dear Dad,

It was all Jenny’s idea.  ("Ow, ok! ok!)          

 I mean; I am a capable individual responsible for my own decisions. 

But, I am sorry for everything. I’m sorry that I screamed at you the night you brought me a birthday cake for my 18^th birthday.

I was angry. I was angry at you for just thinking that time could go on. I was angry at you for not caring about her anymore. For thinking we could celebrate my birthday without her. Christmas without her. I was angry that your heart was still beating when mine stopped when hers did. Because when you sang happy birthday to me, all I could hear was her voice. I closed my eyes and I could almost see her. Everywhere I go; black and white memories flicker around me. Everywhere she was; her ghost still haunts me with bittersweet fragments of dead hope that hurt so much I can’t take it. So, I had to go away. I had to go somewhere she never was, where nothing can remind me of her. 

But Dad. One night we got out of the car and watched the sunset and I looked over at her and the sunlight hit her eyes just right and she was smiling at me with the sun in her eyes. And I could feel the sun radiating off her; like the sunset became a person so that I could touch it. When I touch her I feel the sun. When I look at her; I see the sunset.

And for the first time in a long time when I went to bed that night; I wasn’t thinking about the past. I was thinking about the future; our future. Together.

And I just. Now I know and I’m so sorry. Now I know that losing her would hurt me more than anything. Now I know that you were just trying not to lose yourself so that I wouldn’t lose you too. 

And now I have to find myself so that you don’t lose me.

Love,

Antonio