Dear: Someone I Wish Could Forgive Me

oh, Uncle Paul

I'm grateful for everything you've been to me, ever done for me. You do not go unappreciated and unpedestaled. But, let's have a heart to heart right here right now sir, I have a bone to pick with you.

When I had just arrived, when I was young and seventeen, you sat me down and proceeded to say some very cruel things to me. Do you remember? Unconscious things. I laughed - as I usually do when I'm upset - and talked it out with Fiona. The #shade never ends in South Bend, it's why I had to leave. Otherwise, I probably would have swallowed one pill too many and left an anonymous note to God scribbled "#tryagain" on it. Now I know that it was just your dissatisfaction with your own life manifesting itself and projecting onto me, but I gotta tell you - if I'm 24 now and I still remember these random rants from you to me - you have solid evidence that all I did was take your words and deposit them into my mental bank. Which keeps files for undisclosed amounts of time. Now that I've said that - you have your explanation of why I act the way I do towards you. You now will be aware of why one day we'll be laughing on the phone, and the next I don't want to come and see you. No matter what I tell anyone, if I was truly hurt by something - there will be blood. Here's my confession session to you Paul.

I'm sorry for not always picking up your calls.
I'm sorry for even thinking you deserved what you got regarding that big thing in your life that everybody knows about.
I'm sorry for still punishing you.
I'm sorry for thinking you're needy, when in fact, you're not needy at all.

I'm especially sorry for my latest atrocity. By the time I called you, it was too late. I don't blame you for never picking up. It was to be the first time out of two incidents this year someone wasn't picking up my calls, but from you sir - it pinched in a different way.

I felt terrible. Even though I wouldn't have done it differently, still. It's not that I regret not showing up - I just regret not showing you more sympathy. More concern to how you are. How you have been. It was honestly the very LEAST I could have done. But, I didn't do it.

This is not how I truly am, it's not how I was raised. It's just how I get when there's something inside of me regarding a particular person that I have not fully dealt with or processed.

I still feel bad. I secretly hope you've forgotten about it so I don't have to admit it to you face to face and pay any more homage than I already have.

I'm sorry Uncle, and I hope you find it in you to forgive me. Since I obviously have not forgiven myself.

Sincerely,

"The one that looks exactly like her Dad"