I don’t know why I am writing you this letter, wait I do know why. I’ve always been the type of a person who lets stuff happen. Who lets people bully her, and then protect her bullies.
I’ve always kept my feelings bottled up, not telling my problems to anybody. But then something happens, maybe it’s something small and I start to cry. That got me labeled as a cry baby.
I have tried to keep it in, for five or four years I have tried to keep all my anger, all my grief and all my hurt at you in. And I have succeeded for for the most part. But now I have to tell someone even if it’s in a letter.
At least, it’s finally off of my chest.
We didn’t exactly grow up together. Did we? You were the youngest of dad’s three daughters from his first marriage and I was the youngest of his two daughter’s from his second.
We were raised in separate houses and you guys only visited every so often. Although Bran and Ambee both lived with us for a short amount of time. You choose to move in with our grandmother.
As we grew up, I was always the weak one in the family. I gave up too easily, I let everyone else push me around and then I ran to dad. That’s just how I was I was always looking up at the four of you. I was always in all of your shadows.
It took me forever to realize that. And when I did, I was angry and I still am angry.
I still give up way too easily, I lash out violently. But you probably don’t know that, do you?
We haven’t talked since that day you left grandma’s. That was the first break in our relationship.
You were selfish, A liar and a thief, I am sorry but it’s truth. Dad spent almost a thousand dollars on you so that you could have stuff for college. Then grandma spent even more money on you.
Then you stole from grandma. You took a coffee maker, furniture and plates. You even took some of her money. Even though you could have asked for money, or a coffee maker or plates or more furniture. And they would have bought you some.
You didn’t have to steal it. And you didn’t even confess, when everyone knows you did it…
Then, you insulted dad. You insulted us, your sisters. You said that dad had never done anything for you. When we both know thats not true. Maybe it’s your way at dealing with the divorce? Even though it happened more then eighteen years ago. I guess for some people, they never truly get over their parents leaving.
You insulted your sisters by saying you were the best looking in the family, that didn’t really bother me. I’ve never cared for looks. But then you went on to say that we were selfish bitches who would never amount to anything.
I remember thinking ‘Why is she going around saying these things? If she feels that way. She should say them to our face!’
Since then you’ve done more stuff. You’ve built a wall around yourself and this part of the family. Do you hate us that much?
Do you know? That dad thinks you might not be his? That there is more then an 80% chance that you are the child of someone your mother used to work with? If thats true I don’t blame for lashing out. But still dad has thought this since before you were born and still he raised you and loved you as his own daughter.
There is a chance that you are his. Do you think honestly that he would spend all that time on you if he hated you? That he would have fought tooth an nail for custody over you. Even if in the end he lost, because your mother had friends in the court.
Why does it matter? I was raised to believe that you were my sister. And I still believe it blood or no blood. And I love you, I love all of my sisters. And I hopefully always will. I forgave you a long time ago.
You’re pregnant now, and have a man in your life. A nice place to live. I am happy for you. But I just wish that we could talk.
I hope that you have a happy life. Maybe one day, I’ll ask you these questions and tell you in person. But for now I am content with this letter.