Hello Mom,

How are you in your new life? I hope you're doing okay. We all miss you very much. I miss you. Do you know how hard it is to find a boyfriend, especially when your older brother is so protective? It's hard.

My life has been chaotic with school and social engagements (you know how social I am). My friends are great. Sara's always there when I need her. I know you can't be there and so does she. She's like a sister, always watching over me. I need that now. It's hard ... maybe you already figured that out.

Guess what? You'd be so proud of me. I did great on my report card (Dad may think differently, though). At least I think I did well. Adjusting has been hard, but I've gotten through it, just like you told me I should. My days are lonely without you, you know. Now, all my girl stuff goes to Sara and Dave (for a brother, he knows quite a lot about girls). They give great advice. That doesn't mean they take your place in my heart. I know I can't say that much about you, though. I don't mind, I know you had to leave. You told me you needed space, you needed to leave. I understood, but leaving me and our family? Never mind. Sorry. I still love you anyway.

I miss you.

Change is hard and it hurts. Maybe it's better you get your space; we'll try to understand why you left. I know what you meant when you said that crying into a pillow isn't the same as a real shoulder. But, Mom, my pillow doesn't leave me or say it needs space. It stays and listens and doesn't just say, "Laura, I need change." You hurt me, Mom ... a lot. My teachers see something different in me and they are always putting a hand on my shoulder trying to - I don't know - comfort me or help. But it doesn't.

Well, I just wrote to say hello.

I miss you.

Love always, Laura

I ran. That's what I did when I was sad or angry. The tears streaked across my face, running onto my lips. I didn't think of my face getting wet or the fact that the post office was still so far away. Finally, I got there. I wiped my face and licked the stamp, the minty, stale taste pouring over my taste buds. I whispered, "I love you, Mom," and dropped the letter in the mailbox. I walked away, knowing the letter was going to stay there - the envelope had no address. 1