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hi kiddo.
i...
honestly, i'm not sure what to say. i feel like somewhere some part of me is being torn out, torn apart. every memory of you, all 22 years of them, from that awful snowstorm night i saw the beauty that was you enter this world until this very heartbeat, is pounding in my ears like some overwhelming surf. i can't stand under the force of so much memory. everything everywhere right now is you. that's what you never understood, and i never understood how you never understood. your simply being impresses itself like hoofbeats and thunder. right now i am watching you go further and further away, to a place where i can't follow and can't reach, trying so hard to become what you've always been. by the time you were 7 you were the smartest person i have ever known. and i'm sorry. i know how hard that was. the endless pressure, the hours of being a genius or being ignored. i do know. i lived it. and it was worse for you, because i may have been simon, but you were actually river. and they came and fussed over your perfect pitch. and i didn't take enough time to tell you how grateful i was for your voice. at the same time, i want to shake you until your perfect teeth crack out of your perfect face. you vain thing. how do you think it was for us? i suffered sick in silence, 25 years and then when the dark came for me i was all alone. we used to walk three steps behind while strangers stopped and said, what a pretty little girl. and i would think, but we are four little girls. i would think, why aren't we good enough. which is why when i stopped coming home and you started asking, maybe a mean part of me delighted in holding back an answer. one more hour i'll never get back. one more penance that has to go somewhere. but now for this? you to be stricken with the vainest, most shallow of diseases. while r. has been to hospital back and forth, not recognizing her own body, and here you could have been given 25 things that would have given you character, and how do you end up? selfish and bratty, needing coddling, tell-me-i'm-pretty, stupid selfish bitch literally dying to be thin. walking corpse syndrome too good for you, i suppose? needed to be like everyone else in college? i want to slap an answer out of you. i want to scream loud enough to get through to you.
fuck, kid.
i just want you to be okay.
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