41

I am afraid for you, daughter of mine.

You see flickers of me constantly leaving, rituals to you familiar by now. The dressing up. The makeup. The carrying of the bag. I am off to chase dreams, leaving you behind. The ritual is so familiar to you by now that even when I take a bath and choose clothing for an ordinary work day, you ask me, "Where are you going?" Sometimes, you whimper in your sleep. I wonder if you dream of the sum of people who have left you.

I am afraid that you will guard yourself completely like I did. That even with the repetition of "I love you's", you will not believe. Daughter, do not reach that point. It is harder to trust and love, but I would guess, more worth it than to not have done it at all, to close yourself from it from the very beginning.

I worry that your angst will consume you. I worry that your bursts of happiness will ultimately fall to long stretches of wanting to be unhappy again.

For myself, I worry that I did this to you. I worry for being the proverbial bad parent, consumed by her own wants and dreams and ideals. I worry, like so many others, that you will not love me by the time that you will realize love is a choice, not a condition.

Artists, even shadow ones, often make bade parents, they say. These are the times when I wish I were an accountant instead.

40

Poj,

This is one of those nights, when you can almost define so succinctly what happiness is. Happiness is you and me hugging each other to sleep with Barbie in between and a pink balloon you still clutch tightly in your hand hovering above.

It's tight knit family, you, me, Barbie and this pink balloon. It might just even work. Yessir.

Love,
Me

39

Portia,

This is my understanding. When you no longer love someone, it’s not because you don’t, but because you can’t. It is because something deep inside no longer finds itself to the feeling. It is because there are so many things that swim in its path, than just love. When you no longer love someone, it is a matter of not remembering how. It is a string that snaps, a bowl that falls over. It is not intentionally cut, not intentionally tipped. It will fall and break. It will not find its purpose again. 

I hope someday you'll understand.