Please do not judge the Christian context in which much of the explainations for myself has been based upon. It is not for you to judge. I have faith, that is all. You may have your own logic, I will not criticize it, but must ask that you reflect on how perfect human reason is. The loopholes are not in Christianity, they are in the failable, human mind.
***
I honestly do not know what would be a good start for love letter to your parents. Most of such letters delve straight into the fundamental, visceral reasons for the love, but with your own parents, the reasons are beyond what can be explained through any amount of verbosity (of which I am usually so full of, such that a loss for words is quite a peculiar situation for me to find myself in).
The irony in how I can love you, yet cause so much pain is not altogether lost on me. I feel it every time, and I am afraid of coming home when I’ve done something you would not be pleased with if you knew, because it hurts me to hurt you. The guilt I feel is not from my actions and the belief that they are wrong, because I am clearly aware of being responsible for myself and have a conscience and fear to restrain and check me. Rather, it comes from the knowledge that you will see the yardsticks to which I base my responsibilities upon as insufficient to prevent me from self-destruction.
You fear for me, I know that. Is there desperation? What is it? I cannot stand it. My fear for my own life and my sanity is enough to drive me up the wall. I want to be a good person, for you, certainly, but also for myself. I want to be everything that I can possibly be, and am sure you know, that as much as I belong to you, I belong to myself.
It’s not that I ‘cannot help it’, control is very important to me, and despite this sounding terribly arrogant, I know what I am doing all the time. I know that everything will turn out alright, because so far, everything has, and will continue to be, in the hands of God. More then anything, I know his desire for my happiness, and while I am not happy all the time, there is refuge to be found in the comforting fact that the sadness and depressions are all transient.
I do not know how to explain myself to you, what do you wish for me to explain? You know you have been fantastic parents, and that while I have my faults, dirty, disgusting, raucous, whatever, I’m not someone without hope to look forward to in life. I wish to enjoy it, and I wish to enjoy it now as much as I want to enjoy it in the future. And building up prospects for my future is enjoyable to me.
Sometimes it seems as if my psychology is terribly unconventional. My behaviour, my thoughts, the perceptions I have towards responsibility and morality. It is certainly different from what I had expected of myself years ago, and I believe it must have been different from what you could possibly ever imagine of me, and therefore, it is certainly alarming. I am anxious because of it too. But then again, I would be even more worried for myself if I were conventional. If my life were predictable, if success as I had dreamt of all my childhood existence were set according to future expectations. There is nothing that scares me more then the idea that I will be just like everyone else. That I will leave no impression upon anyone, just another blank, boring soul with aspirations that she was too afraid to attempt.
For me, life is in the now. Predicting the future is an impossibility, and there are people who lead more decent, conventional existences then I do and yet never succeed. I worry about not succeeding sometimes, but I know I shall. God’s favour is mine; I fear, but at the same time know that in him I have refuge.
Of course I can see the appeal of the sweet, lovely, chaste child, the one who spends her time talking to her girlfriends over the phone, giggling over guys and discussing some generic movie. What nearly all the other people I am forced to be with are, in other words. They kill my intellect and bore me to death. If I lived like that, my personality would surely die; and anyway, it is an impossibility.
I have a profound need to seek out experiences, to discover new and newer things always, to be constantly excited. To lust for life. But I also know the necessity of control, and more importantly, of reflection. Mistakes are inevitable, but they are also cushioned and mended by God. And I am anxious, but the fear does not destroy me, and I am not hesitant when it comes to understanding more and seeking more.
Of course I disappoint you sometimes, but am sure I am not all disappointment. And I hope that in the larger perspective of things, I do not disappoint you anymore then anyone else does. Because there are so many things about me I want your pride to show of for.
I have just finished Henry and June. (It was recommended to me by the G-Spot. I have no idea where he is now, he hasn't called me in weeks, and I honestly barely see him, but the way in which he has managed to hit spot on, Nin's diary as a book that would reflect much of me is altogether uncanny in a beautifully eerie sort of way) and while I do not agree with everything Nin writes about, nor feel that her personality is mine also, the general tone of the dairy explains a lot of what is Me. It’s an easy and thoughtful read, and the only way I can seek to explain the person I have become, to you.
I suppose it has been an insane challenge raising me, as a kid, and now. But I hope you feel that it has all been worth it, because you must know that as a person, I have great value in my own way.
Sincerely Yours
xoxox
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