the_lioness | (no subject)

Thom,

On our ninth birthday, I overheard Father and Coram talking. Coram respectfully suggested that Father spend the day with us. Father respectfully declined. It wasn't just our birthday, you see. It was the anniversary of Mother's death as well.

But you know this, don't you? I saw your feet, Brother. I know you were hiding behind the curtain in his study. You heard them too. But later that night, you crawled into bed with me, and we never said a word about it.

There's a lot we don't talk about, isn't there? It's almost as if giving voice to certain things makes them real, makes them final. And we don't quite know what to do with that, do we?

I see more than you think.

Whether or not you believe it, I am sorry, and not just because Adam and I had to do this alone for it to be right. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you when you needed me. But ultimately, would me being there really have changed anything? You are who you are, and I am who I am.

Maybe it's time I accepted that. I'm sorry I tried so very hard to change you - to make you into the boy I remembered rather than the man you are. I don't understand you, but that doesn't change the fact that I love you.

You said in one of your letters that I chose well. You're right. We're impulsive, yes. But you know as well as I that insanity runs in our family. Forgive me, but it clearly runs in Adam's as well. We'll be fine, and this doesn't really change anything, you know. I'm not going anywhere, Thom. That may not mean anything to you. I don't know anymore. But I do know that it means everything to me.

Love, Alanna

P.S. In case you are curious, no, I'm not pregnant. I promise.

P.P.S. Stop scowling. There, I said it. Now you have verification that I really wrote this letter.

Also, it's really quite hot here. You'd be miserable and spend at least an hour complaining about possible sand fleas.