I know that I am 19 years old. I know that I don't know much about this big, bad world just yet. I am thankful that I have both of my parents to help me and answer my questions. That isn't the point. You're my mother, you almost died giving birth to me, you flatlined when I was born and they brought you back to hold your baby girl you never thought you could have. As I got older, I saw other people struggling but learning important lessons. I never had to grow up. But now I'm 19, I dropped out of college, I got a job that I love. You wanted me to be an attorney like you, or a doctor like my older sister. You think that because I didn't want to be an attorney that I didn't want anything to do with you. You screamed and yelled at me that I "resented the hell out of you", and momma, I never have and never will. My love for you is completely unconditional. You don't want your baby girl to grow up, not the way I'd like to. I have saved up for years to rent a home for my cat, my dog, and myself. I'm finally doing it. I haven't told you yet, because I know that you're going to hate me for leaving you and dad. But I can't grow up if I don't do something on my own for once. I'm sorry momma. You'll probably count this as another one of my failures, like when I called you crying that I had gotten a call from the doctor that said I had Herpes from getting raped, when I tried to end my life and you said that you didn't want me on medication because the family would find out, when I failed my math class even after years of tutoring and long nights studying, when I was 10 minutes late on my 9pm curfew on my 18th birthday and you screamed at me for three hours.. Momma, I love you. I am sorry that I've done so much to displease you, but it's time I only think about pleasing myself. I'm going this afternoon to view a home, mom. It's very nice. it has hardwood floors, granite cabinet tops, and a porch... it's stone. It's a gorgeous home, mom. But you won't have a spare key to get in. I'm not locking you out of my life, but I'm not staying here anymore for you to tell me that I'll never be good enough.

UPDATE:

that house was gorgeous, but there was a hole in one of the bedroom walls that was filled with bees. I'm allergic to bees. THE SEARCH CONTINUES!