Letter Three

I realized I haven't done that letter thing in awhile, so might as well do number three.

LETTER #3: THE PARENTS

Dear Mom and Dad,

*Sigh* I know I can be a testy teenager. Ever since Alex went off to France, you've been stuck with me. And I know I can't be the perfect daughter like she was. So just fucking accept it! Yes, I'm doing shitty in physics. Yes, I don't want to be a fucking lawyer or a doctor when I'm older. Yes, I'm seeing someone you forbade me to see (that ones only for mom). And there is PLENTY of shit you guys don't know about me. For instance, I hide a bottle of Firewhiskey in a backpack in my closet, along with some other things you'd kill me for owning. When I have boys that I like over, I like to make out out with them on the couch instead of really watching whatever shitty movie we put on. I cut from time to time (and no, Mom, those weren't Brian's razor blades, those were mine). And of course I think about losing my virginity! Shit, do you actually think that I'm such a little fascist nun? Open your eyes. For once.

Rants aside, you guys did raise me. You raised me to be kind and respectful to others and expect the same in return. And I know that even though half the time I can be a shitty daughter, the love I hold for you guys knows no bounds. As I entered high school and the world around me began to shift, it has become harder and harder to try and talk with you guys, or try to relate to you, because now we're occupying the spheres of a bad family sitcom- the rebellious young daughter and her strict, overly concerned parents. And I hate whenever I lose my temper, because Mom, you like to scream twice as loud as I do, and Dad, you just act the same way I do; we both bottle it up and remain seething until the other one comes to apologize. But you guys have always been there for me. Dad, you taught me how to throw a football, how to razz players at hockey games, that boys are jerks, why Sean Connery was a better Bond than Pierce Brosnan, and to always go for what I want, no matter the cost. Mom, you taught me how to be kind to others even when they're mean in return, how to ride a bike, how to love literature, how to bake, how to put on make up, and how to rise above the rest.

So, despite all my angsty teenage ways, I love you guys, heart and soul.

Your daughter,

Vixen.

-V.