This has been a tough week for us. I was hurt and angry. I think you were confused and angry too. Not our best week.
I started this blog because I need to say things, but I know you are not ready to hear them. Maybe you will never be ready. I don't know.
You left this morning. Took your toothbrush and your backpack. I realize this means you won't be home this weekend. I don't know where you are, I'm sure you're having a great time and not thinking about me.
I'm not saying this because I think it will hurt you, because it won't. I say this because you are 18 and young. Why would you think of me?
On the other hand, I am old and I cannot stop thinking about you.
I've made mistakes, that's true. I expected too much and was hurt when I realized that you would never feel about me, the way I feel about you.
I wish I could erase the bad times. If only I could sprinkle pixi dust on your beautiful blond head and make you forget all the garbage.
Maybe things would be different.
I hope you're safe. I hope you are making good choices. I hope you come home this weekend.
I hope I won't act like a jerk and maybe we can learn to be friends.
I love you,