Dear —,

I hope this finds you well
Though I know that’s unlikely.

By the time this reaches you, I may finally be old enough
That you’ll think I’m an adult,
And you may at last be able to understand
Why everything happened the way it did.

You’ll be at a new house with new people
Who will love you as long as they can,
And it will inevitably become too much,
And you’ll have to start over again.

You’ll have lived a life of people calling you
Too much or not enough,
And I can’t say that they’re wrong
Because I never had enough love for you either.

I would say I’m sorry, but I was raised that
“I’m sorry” means it won’t happen again,
And if I had to do it a second time,
I wouldn’t be able to love you any more than the first.

I do wish you well, though.
I hope you learn to not hate even though you’re hurt.
I hope you let kindness smooth the jaggedness of your pain,
So that you can be all of yourself without cutting someone else.

And I hope you find your way to happiness-
Not the fleeting kind you’ve always sought
Like it’s a drug providing a temporary relief
Before leaving you gasping for more-
But the tough kind that shows what you’ve survived,
A light that glows in the darkest nights,
To guide you to the life you never thought you deserved.

I suspect I can’t be part of that life
Or its happiness,
So, this is goodbye.

Best of luck,
—