Mom,

   I know you're trying. I know you don't like seeing me like this. Not eating, not sleeping, making excuses to not go out with my friends. I know it's hard. But I'm not Kylie or Jennifer. I'm not an all-star athlete or the life of the party. People don't really care about me here and that's why I want to leave. I want to be somewhere that feels right. Ahsland just makes sense. My closest friends are going there and the Shakespeare festival... I mean, hello, it sounds like heaven on earth. That's what's going to make me happy. Doing what I love and coming home to the people I love. I want a home, Momma; not just a house that people occupy and is owned by Dad. I want my own home filled with love and tropical fish, books and salad bowls. I want to take showers at 11 and night and blast Edith Pioff when I'm getting ready for a date. I want to meet new people that I don't owe anything too. I want to be known as 'the pretty girl with the long dark curly hair that sits in front of me in beginning french'. I don't want to be 'that psycho slut chick' anymore. I want to be free... But I have to cope with the right now. I'm sorry I'm not doing it your way, but you've got to know I'm different. I always have been and I always will be. You've just got to know that I love you, Mom. I'll do the best I can if you do the same.