Dear mom

I’m pulling away, and you know it. You know it but you can’t understand it. Most times you can’t understand me because not really anyone does. I’m reclusive and conserving, most my life I keep to myself. I’m sorry for when you try and I turn you down, it’s nothing personal, it’s just how I am. I can be frustrating, tense, emotionless and emotional, I don’t show appreciation sometimes because I really don’t know how. Honestly, I don’t know how to show appreciation or return it. It’s something I’ve had a problem with for as long as I can remember. I’m sorry I can’t be more for you. I know that sometimes you wish I’d just get involved and that’d make you happy, but honestly I hate being fake more than anything. Sometimes I don’t feel like putting on a smile and joining the group because I’d rather write, read or draw on my own. It’s not because I don’t want to spend time with you, and it’s not because I don’t want to help. I’m getting older, I’ve always longed for more, to go further, and I’m sorry for when I push for too much. You’ve said so yourself, I’m stubborn. I’m sorry for when I can’t help, like recently when I’ve done nothing but lie around on the couch. I’m more of a trouble than I’d like to be, and yet I can’t do enough. I love you mom, this is my way of saying thanks for all you do. I don’t know how else to say it.

Live long and prosper, Tori Lynn.

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