here’s to all the conversations I have in my head

because many things are easier left unsaid

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

To my mother and my father:

I’m sorry. I’m sorry I haven’t been the perfect daughter.

I’m sorry I don’t respect all your hard work, all the sacrifices you’ve made as an immigrant to this country, all the sacrifices you’ve made to ensure we get the best of everything.

I’m sorry all I can do is argue, perpetually falling into that vicious cycle of screaming and crying and avoiding.

I’m sorry I blame you for my shortcomings without thanking you for my strengths.

I love you.

To the guy in my life (because I still don’t have a name for what we are, even after two years):

I’m sorry that every time I want to talk about something real, the words get swallowed up in my throat. Fear and uncertainty shove them down, choking me. So I never told you that

I woke up one morning and realized that I wanted to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. But I didn’t say that because that’s scary to me and probably even scarier to you.