I don't reply.
"I love you. Call me if you need to talk or anything."
I need to talk. But I can't talk to you. You haven't been there in the times that I've needed you most, in these latest years, when I'm trying to make sense of myself and of my life. I've got people that I can talk to, sure. Talking you your mom though, that's something that's special. Yet you've distanced yourself so much from me because of your choices. I've forgiven you, and will continue to forgive you, but last year destroyed my hope. I'll try to find it again, but it's not easy.
It hurts to admit that. More than anything else than I can think of. But I've put nothing but faith in you. Every time you've messed up after doing so well, for so long, it breaks my heart. It leads me to think, "I'll have my mom back. Someone I can talk to about girls, or these screwed up emotions I'm having, what I want to do in college, the kind of person I want to marry." But then you decide to mess yourself up. I can't imagine what the addiction is like, and I'm not calling you weak. I know you've fought so hard your entire life. You're exhausted.
But so am I. Hope is a hard thing to hold on to. It's so fragile. Barely tangible. Faith comes from the hope. Faith is convincing. I had no doubt in my mind, last time. That night when we were driving that long road, and I told you I'd forgiven you, and always would. You cried. I almost did. I wanted to look strong for you. You told me you loved me and were proud of me. I told you that every time that you messed up, forgive yourself, because I'd always forgive you. Time starts now, and those past mistakes aren't anything important. That night, I was so sure you were going to make it. Things were going to be good again.
That night hurt the most. I've never felt so broken. You've hurt me a lot, but never so badly. I've carried you home from church drunk, because you couldn't walk in heels. You've locked yourself from the world, and made me pray that you hadn't done something horrible. But that night, when I was so sure, and felt that you were sure, that everything was going to be right, and I'd have my mom back eventually, you broke me.
I'll keep trying, as long as you do. Forever. Hope will always come back when you don't give up. That's the most beautiful thing about this, and the most destroying. It all depends on choices. The ones you make. My hope will bring me faith again. Your actions will have to prove my faith, and then all will be well. I miss watching Recess with you after school. I miss asking you every day when you get home from work if you got some Yu-Gi-Oh cards for me. I miss the caramel apples, the pictures on the first day of school, you telling me you were proud of me, not looking up at me, but looking down at me as a mother.
I love you, Mom.