Hey, you. You know who you are, but I'm going to call you out anyways. Mom. Sister. Father. Brother. And E. But mom first. Hey, did you know respect is a two-way street? If you want my respect, I want yours. You treat me like a child, but I'm two years away from being an adult. You tell me I'm stupid, I either won't or can't use my head. I'm just here to make you mad. You can't wait until I move out, yet you tell me, "Don't be like your brother. Look where he's at now. Stay here with me for a few years." I disgust you. I'm that stereotypical rogue teenage daughter. You're the stereotypical helicopter parent, but the ghetto version. From the time I was eight, you told me I was a disappointment to you. Well, this disappointment isn't going to be in your home much longer.
And now, for my sisters. You tell me its okay, mom's just in a bad mood. She doesn't mean it. She loves you. Its okay, we don't think you're dumb. We love you. She's wrong. But when it comes down to me or her, you choose her. She is always right, even when she isn't. Not to mention that I'm the sister you guys never want to be around. . . Why can't you just accept me for who I am, choose me for once? Well, you won't have to choose much longer.
Dad. Oftentimes I think you are the only one who loves me for who I am. And yet you are why mom is perpetually angry, 24/7. You are just so oblivious, she hates it. That's why, in the few times when she's not mad, she tell me to never depend on a man, carve my own path and be self reliant. I hope I don't end up like her.
Brother. Lucky you. You got to escape, but you didn't stay away. Nope, you came crawling back, begging for money because you got your girlfriend pregnant. You've forgotten about the rest of us. When you do visit, you leave as soon as possible. You've forgotten me. Don't fret, you won't have to remember much longer.
And finally, E. When I met you, I knew you were perfect for me. You had a sense of humor, you were smart, cute, popular, kind (usually), and just my type of guy in general. Then, my sisters ex boyfriend pointed out how we would be a cute couple. You started asking me if I agreed with him, and I said I wasn't sure. It wasn't until you kept asking me and making jokes about it that I realized it was a joke to you. My feelings. But one doesn't get over things so easily. I still liked you. Until her. The one with the same name as me, but also pretty. Popular. Funny. Athletic. Your type. And yet, even while you flirted with her, you also flirted with me. You led me on, then slammed the door in my face. You inspired a song that no one will ever hear but me. You made me wary of all guys, of all hope, and it's all your fault, Ethan.
Disappointing, second-choice, hopeful, forgotten and broken,
G.