Dear... Parents
I love you.
That's the entire point of this letter. I don't have the courage (at least, not right now) to actually tell you everything in here. And I don't know if you'll see it, but I kind of hope you do. Maybe someday I'll show you.
Sometimes I think I hate you. Sometimes I feel like you don't understand me, like you just don't care about me. Sometimes when we have angry, short conversations I feel slighted and rather hurt.
Angry conversation seems to be our normal. We don't joke, or tease each other, or have intense long debates. Our talks always seem to just be about what we should eat, things we see, what we should do. Sometimes, dad watches TV with me, and sometimes we play games but you know that those occasions are somewhere between sometimes and rarely. And mom? What do we really talk about? We used to talk about the news and things but...
But I still love you. Very much so. Once there was a time when I felt as if I wanted to jump off the roof of a building. What kept me back was, in a large part, my devotion to you. I don't want to see you sad, ever. I don't want anything bad to happen to you.
I love you, so very much. I'd like to tell you more, but maybe another time.