Letter to Dad

Dear Dad,
I don’t really know how I’m meant to start this letter but my Psychologist May aka moms current hack at making a friend (last week it was Mrs. Glenn) says I should start by sharing something with you that I’ve never shared with anyone else not even mom or May herself even though her office is meant to be this safe space where I can share everything but I’m blabbering. But here goes my attempt at sharing.
Have you ever known someone for most of your life? Grew up just three doors down from them? Were your mother’s close friends? Well you could say that about me and Mark Clarkson the boy who changed my life in ways I could never explain. Because I could never truly understand how one boy could change my whole perspective. But were getting a little ahead of ourselves let me take you back too two years ago when we were in the eighth grade. Oh, the eighth grade how I dread looking back on it my mother called it the year of discover but for me it was the year I started to see my best friend in a new light.
You see I couldn’t say I’ve never noticed how attractive my best friend was. Mark was a good-looking guy with smooth mocha skin and dimples the size of moon craters. His head a jungle of curls he could never tame but it was his eyes (yes, his oh so lovely eyes) that seemed to captive and trap in anyone who seem to look gazes with him. I called them soul-searching because when he looked you in the eye it was like he was trying to read the essence of your soul digging up secrets you didn’t know were hidden so deep. I hated him for it sometimes because I could never seem to hidden anything from well maybe I could I am hiding the fact that I might be in love with him.
But to get back on topic eighth grade totally ruined everything you know dad. Like mom said it was the year of discover the year my boobs finally came and the boys would stop referring to me as flat chested Loise. But also, it was the year my period came and not only did it come but in the middle of gym class when we were climbing ropes and ever started laughing. It was until I got down did I figure out why. My passage to womanhood had finally arrived but at the worst possible time ever. Who wanted anyone to see the big bloodspot on their bright white gym pants not me but shit (I know I’m not suppose to curse) happens.
I didn’t go to school for a week before mom had enough (more like May had enough) and said I had to go to school. I really didn’t want to how do you face your best friend after he saw your bloodstained gym shorts. But I went faced the ridicule of my peers and for a while I wish I could crawl back under my sheets and never come out because it sounded it lot better than going to school. But after a while (three whole months) people started to forget about the fact about how I got my period.
But were off track we’re supposed to be discussing how I am in love with my best friend and how eighth grade year is the reason for this awful dilemma of mine. A dilemma I can’t share with my mom because then she’ll tell May and no hurt to May but she should really change her career because a psychologist job is to keep her patients secrets not accidental blurting them out to her friends. And did you know that Mrs. Clarkson happens to be one of her friends is life a bitch (her I am cursing again sorry) or what.
Moms entered the room now and she wants to know what’s taking me so long in writing this letter to you. I don’t know why she feels the need to bother she’s the one who wanted me to start writing to you. She says it will be good for me. I guess well have to continue this in the next letter I send you. I miss you dad and I love you somewhere in my dysfunctional heart well the parts that aren’t to busy loving on Mark. I hope we can get back to how we use to be. And pretty soon (well not really soon more like 4 years and two month) well be to talk in person and you’ll be home. I’m going to stop writing now moms still standing at the door.

So, see you later or write to you later,

Eloise Paisley King

P.S. I still have that stuff Polar Bear you got me its till missing an arm and an eyeball but Ken’s still around. Also, still have that beanie of yours that’s say’s and I quote “Stupidly Named King” I wear it when I get really nervous or miss you. Okay now I’m official done.