Dear mom,

I love you. I really love you. I would have interposed between you and a bullet. Or a train. Or a simple car. I would have given up my life for you. I’m sorry I’m not what you did expect me to be. I know I seemed happy, what’s more, you were proud of me because I had success during my sixteen years of life, but to tell the truth, mom, I’m not happy at all. Everyday was a struggle at school, even at home faking a smile. Mom, you know I don’t like lies. Well, nobody does. I believe. Anyway, you know it. When dad decided to go on his own, you both told us, my brother and me, that you could always count on each other. You don’t even talk now. Mom, do you remember when my brother first suffered from a falling sickness fucking episode? I do. Every single day. And I wish it would have been me the one with the epilepsy disease. Mom, do you remember when you took a pill box in to end your life? Of course you don’t, but I do. I know you didn’t want to hurt us, but at that moment, I felt worthless, mean.. Mom, life without you would have no sense. I don’t really know what would I have done without you in this past few years. Mom, do you remember when you first saw my wounds and cuts? I do. Every single moment. I’m sorry mom, it’s not your fault: you’re the best mommy ever created. I swear. It’s not your fault. It’s just mine. But I’d personally rather physical pain than the emotional one, and honestly, cutting helps. Mom, I wish I would be brave enough to tell you, but I don’t want you to get disappointed: I love you too much to see your reaction at my relapse on suicidal tendencies. I’m so sorry, mom. I didn’t want to hurt you. Mom, you are a wonderful person who deserves the best and whose role is here, in this cruel world, changing bad people into great people, like you mom. You can do a better place of this world. Mom, stay strong. You’re beautiful. You’re brave. You’re not weak. You’re persistent. And what’s most important: you’re the best mother God could ever give me and you’ve given me more love than anybody ever could. Mom, I admire you: you’re a great woman. And I love you.

Love,

Your daughter, María.-