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Dearest Gloria,
I feel as though I owe you an apology. There were so many years that we antagonized each other, and just as we had begun to mend those fences, I left.
Please believe me when I say that I am grateful that we became close. I miss you more than I can say in a simple letter. I am sorry. Sorry for all the times before that we didn’t get along, for the things I said that I shouldn’t have, and for the things I should have said, but didn’t.
Like, goodbye.
I left because I firmly believe there are some things I need to do for myself that I can only do outside of your mother's house.
And after this past week, I think you might understand what I mean.
I don’t know what else I can say right now. It’s not because I don’t want to tell you, but I there’s nothing to tell. Not yet. Maybe not at all. Sometimes you hear about people when they leave town, wander far from home, and start new lives. And once upon a time, I never dared to believe I could be a person like that. Or that any of us could. I’m not suggesting you leave, dear sister, but I think that even though I don’t know where I’m headed or how long I’ll be gone, or even what I’ll do when I find a place to stay-
There is satisfaction in the knowledge the choice is finally my own.
Love,
Cinders