Pass the truth phone. That’s right, I just totally whored someone on my xanga for the first time. Anyway… here goes nothing…
Did you ever know that sometimes I wish you knew who I was? I wish I could be on top of the world. I wish I was a revolution. You always make me feel like a failure, but spin it around to make me feel even worse for hating you. Family. It’s like blood was supposed to be thick, but mine’s been running a little thin lately. I know how difficult it is to be you; you’ve got nothing to fall back on. And somehow you always make the right decisions. Maybe that’s why I feel so horrible about the way I am, because you never feel self-concious about yourself.
I know, “don’t spin this around on me!” But sometimes you just always hate everything about me. Deny it all you want, but I feel like a bad mark on a perfect family some days. Would you understand if I told you my deepest secret? Aren’t we supposed to get along? Everyone calls you the “cool mom” but sometimes I feel like smothering myself. I’m so terrified of telling you the truth because I live for your approval. I’m so scared of failure because of all you’ve been through. You always have a tale to tell me that is worse than 99% of my life. Well, all those tales add up when I can’t forget. Now you see, don’t you? Every time I come home crying because I feel empty and alone. You always say it’s fine to stumble. But what if I’m not stumbling? Oh god, I’ve already fallen and I’m not sure if I want you to pick me up. Don’t look at me like you did when I was young. Call me young and foolish, because maybe then I could make mistakes. I’m sorry for acting like a whiny brat, but I feel like crumbling into every memory I tried to from.
Do you know I hate looking myself because you always tell me what could be better about me? Or that I don’t let anyone in because that’s what you’ve taught me? You make me cry more than any boy could because I’ve got you for life. I never felt bad when he died, is that how cold I am inside? When I saw you cry, I felt like crying more than I ever have. Because you’re my hero and my dictator. You’re the one that makes me wish I could fly just to make you look at me for once. Every time you compliment me it’s like a fire in my heart telling me that I could always do better. Because that’s the p.s. isn’t it? Every A could always be an A+. But what if I can’t do it? What if I’m not a child prodigy and I won’t be able to buy you everything you’ve ever wanted when I’m older? Would you still love me then?
I feel like you would just abandon me now if you found out I would grow up to be a failure. You’ve got me crying again. Tear like blood from every papercut I’ve gotten from reading a book that wasn’t up to your standards. Is imagination a sin these days? I’m sorry for not being the prodigy that goes to some amazing Ivy League school. I’m sorry for not wanting to be a doctor like you planned for me to. As cliche as I am, it’s not like I ever wanted to disappoint you.
My words just flow so much better over a dial tone.
Less Than Three;
Rikki [the dummy’s guide to disappointment]