Here’s my letter to you that you’ll never get to read.
Dear Mother and Father,
I have so much to say. There’s too much to say. Throughout my life I always thought highly of you. Both of you were my everything but that changed when realized how much you didn’t think about me.
My earliest memories are of you two fighting. I’ll never forget the screaming, the name calling, the insults, the threats, the physical damage done. This was everyday. I remember waking up to the both of you busting through my door at midnight claiming “I got to her first, so I get to keep her!”
I remember the two of you yanking on the both of my arms about who got to keep me. I remember the fingerprints bruised on my arms.
Mom, do you remember when you took my hand and ran to the car when dad’s back was turned? It was rainy and cold and I had no socks or shoes on.
Dad, do you remember when my brother and I woke up to screaming so we came out to the hallway to see you on top of Mom with your hands around her neck?
Mom, do you remember when you attacked Dad and covered him in blood?
Do you two remember? Because I wish I didn’t.
The abuse I endured during my time with you was much more than any child should have to bear.
Mom, when I was sexually abused by your brother, why were you so quick to forgive him? Do you not believe me? Or do you not care about my feelings? I don’t know which one of those is worse. I still see the man who hurt me because of you.
Mom, when you walked in on your son sexually abusing me, why didn’t you do anything about it? Why? I was only 9.
Dad, when you found I was planning suicide, why did you scream at me? Why did you punish me for my illness? I was only 13. You made me feel crazy.
When I was 14, I went to a church to talk to a pastor because I couldn’t talk to you. I already talked to Mom but she brushed it off. He insisted I give him your number. When you picked me up, you asked what was wrong. I told you I was very depressed. You told me I had nothing to be depressed about.
A couple months later, a week after I had turned 15, I tried to kill myself. I went to a bridge to wait for the train to come but the police showed up so I tried cutting instead. Dad, when I was in the hospital, why did you glare at me like I was a monster? I remember you left without speaking to me. I’ll never forget how much that hurt.
Mom, why did you act like it never happened? I tried telling you before it happened. I was so young and I needed you. I needed you to talk to me, but you never did.
Dad, why did you tell everyone that I only did because you were going to take my phone? Why didn’t you ever believe me? Why don’t you believe me now? As parents, you both were supposed to be there for me, but you never were.
You left me to suffer by myself my entire life. You left me to suffer as an abused little girl. You left me to suffer as a suicidal teenager. You’re currently leaving me to suffer as a broken person. A person you let break. A person you never once bothered to fix.
I’ll always hate you. But I’ll always love you.