Letter To My Dad
By kucingnoire ~ H i Dad. First off, I'd like to say that I really appreciated our talks when I was home. For maybe the first time in my life, I felt like you really heard me. It's a credit to your maturity and wisdom that you were able to respond so graciously to me, wine-drunk and petulant as I was in certain moments. I truly appreciate that, and it was encouraging to me. When we talked about those conversations establishing a good foundation that we could build on, I meant it. So, let's build. Right now: I'm depressed. I have a hard time sleeping a lot of nights. I have a hard time getting up in the morning. I have a hard time getting excited about anything. I am anxious. I drink too much. I smoke too much. To borrow the phrase you used to describe the France years: I am treading water. This is not entirely your fault. I take responsibility for my decisions. I own my bad habits. I reference my current situation not to hold you responsible for it, but