A letter from Jul 14, 2025

Dear FutureMe, Mommy, I'm writing this letter to you because our relationship is currently in danger of breaking down beyond repair. I ask you to take a moment to think, breathe, and focus on my words; remove all thoughts of finger-pointing, arguing, or anger. This is one of the letters that will be the basis of a restorative and clarifying conversation. I stopped writing them a long time ago because I believed I expressed myself better through my words than through my words. To this day, I think my words aren't enough to make you understand the depression and weakness I feel in my soul. Through the years, you've not only had a son who loves you with all his heart, but also a supporter of mine in the face of the adversities life has put in our paths, as well as the loneliness caused by our family. I've been your handkerchief to dry those tears, your sun to fill you with laughter and warmth every morning, your moon to watch over you at night, your stars to guide you along your path... you've been my ladder to climb out of where I've fallen, my oxygen to heal my soul, my life to keep growing, my knowledge to fill my curiosity. We are a castle, built over the years, reinforced and protected so that no one could ever break in and attack. Unfortunately, the prince of the castle was very reckless and lazy at a young age, which led to numerous temper tantrums. As he grew older, he fell into even more trouble than he'd ever had to face, since the queen took care of everything. When my mother began to age, it was time for me to take over, but how can someone take over if they rarely did their part? Time passed, and the walls of our relationship began to crack, points of view became strained, and my mother's patience disappeared. I understand that I've always lacked that interest in things, but that doesn't mean I need to think fast, do things quickly, move, and act in the moment. I use my calm to come up with a good plan of attack, my serenity to reflect, and my gentleness to carry it out. Everyone is different, and being different isn't a bad thing. Being different means new additions, new methods of solution, and new ways of seeing the problem. I'm writing this letter to you with my deepest love and sadness, Mother. I've reached a point where I need to feel happy again. You say you'd rather separate than change. We've already lost my grandmother, and I can't bear another loss. You have no patience with me. You live a fast-paced life, and your foundations are based on the cruel life you've lived, but just because it's history doesn't mean it can't be rewritten. Today, at 27 years old, I can promise you that I've thought that if my mother were to get Alzheimer's, I swear I'd go through every problem and argument again. Love you Mom