First off, you still don’t know what the hell you’re doing, so I hope you weren’t praying for anything insightful over. But don’t worry, as lost as we still are, we’re making a go at a pretty decent life.
I wish I could warn you about what’s to come, but that would be cheating, wouldn’t it? We can’t change the mistakes, but know that they sting a little less with each year that goes by. But for every ten days that we struggled, there’s one good day where we flew and that made it all worth it.
I really feel odd writing this…Not because I’m writing it to you, but because being faced with writing to you is making me realize that not as much has changed as I thought. We’re a little less socially awkward, and hey! We finally got boobs! (sort of…) but we still have issues.
If anything, I want to tell you that you don’t need to feel quite so misplaced. I want to tell you that it’s okay to feel and be emotional sometimes, but I guess that’s where we still have an issue. Anyway, more on the importance of that, later.
Oh! We got married (twice…) and we finally did something right. When people tell you that their partner is the yin to their yang? Yah, we found him. He’s cuddly, emotional and a good baker, while we still hate to be touched, are emotionally void and can cook but still make burnt “pancake cookies”…
Are either of the husbands “him”? No. And thank goodness for that! Don’t worry, it will be fine (better than!) but you’re still going to wish you’d kicked him in the nuts at least once. (Sorry, you never do.)
Also, you get a chance to see Michael Turner in person before he…Well, just be happy you got to see him. And Mark Silvestri likes your husband (#2) enough that he put him up on the Top Cow website! Why? Because you made him an insane cosplay that got him a lot of recognition. Where was yours? Err…We won’t go there…
Back to the important, touchy-feely part:
Do you remember that bed you had when you were twelve? It was a day-bed and when you got really mad at mom, you’d write entries in your journal about her but you were too scared she’d find them, so you screwed off the ends of the daybed and hid the journals inside. We both forgot about the bed, and the journals, when Uncle Kevin bought it for Priscilla. I know she’s only a kid right now, but she’s going to grow into one hell of a woman! But back to the point…
Priscilla finds your journals.
She approaches you, and it’s probably the only time the two of you will ever sit down to talk. You felt your heart race when she tells you why she wants to talk to you because you can’t remember for the life of you what the journals say. But it’s that day that you realize something: You’re not the only emotionally challenged one in the family.
Priscilla unrolls one of the journals and hands it to you, and says, “Thank you.” They helped her, because she found out she wasn’t the only one that felt that way. She wasn’t the only kid in the world that sometimes hated their mom or struggled with the boy that never noticed them. She wasn’t the only one that felt like no one understood and wanted to rip their hair out and scream, but couldn’t cry to save their life.
So in a way, you already wrote a “dear teen-me”, only you wrote it to her and you never knew it. You helped someone that needed it by being open, even if you thought no one would ever find out.
Maybe you should open up a little more, eh?
Or maybe not. Your choice.