You were my bestfriend for a very long time. You make the best macaroni that has ever graced my mouth. I think you wish I could be more like Hannah. I think you wish I would put more energy into being nice than to being honest. I used to want to be just like you. But the truth is you’re not what I want to be at all. I get compliments on your scarves and hats every time I wear them, but I still wish you could make a cardigan. I wish you could properly see my photography. And face. I know you wish you could too. You always give the best presents – except you’re really bad at picking out PJ’s but it’s okay. I’m sorry I stopped letting you hug me. It’s not your fault. I hope you make soups with the vitamix and have made friends in your knitting group. I wish you stuck with losing weight just to say you did it and so that you would get high with me and not be afraid of the munchies. But you got drunk with me and that was pretty cool too. The first time I ever tried vodka was at 1AM on the lake from your cupboard. It didn’t taste like death then. Plump looks good on you. I’m sorry I didn’t have more patience with you, I’m sorry I couldn’t listen when you spoke with nothing to say. I crave your food at least once a week. I’m sorry for you that you didn’t have the courage to stay behind and that it took me so long to realize it took a different kind of courage to leave at all. I know I should call you more, but your voice sounds different. I know I should e-mail you more, too. I know it was wrong of me to tell you I was mailing you art when I have no intention of doing that. Maybe I will now though. I’m just not that big on presents but I think that necklace was the best gift I ever gave and even though I don’t want to be you anymore don’t take it personally because I don’t want to be anyone else, either. For a few weeks – or months – I thought you were weak. In everyones own way we are. But you aren’t – not in the way I thought. I’m sorry for that. I’ve realized it takes a certain amount of resolve and determination to go through what you did and to put up with what you have. It seems to be a recurring thing in our family but I believe we still all deserve recognition for it. I know you can run and I wish you did. You were and are a great mom. I’m sorry if it feels like I’m forgetting you. I’m sorry for crying at you in Wal-Mart. I’m sorry I puked on the bus when I was 6. Thank you for keeping all of my shit over the years, and for putting up with it as well. Thank you for all the disposable pictures and couch beds. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else. I hope you know that. I hope it’s the last thing you forget.
xoxo, puddin’ pie