You were eager like I used to be. 16 was the time of overindulging and man did I! I was addicted to having someone on my arm.

You were the first person I wanted to make a forever with. You gave me hope that we could grow into our roles as soulmates. I actually called you my soulmate, well not to your face. I had just met you in computer class and we couldn't legally go on a field trip without permission let alone try to forge a union.

Give me commands. Clear guidelines. An itemized list of your needs.

When I tell you I love you, it doesn't mean we go together now. It doesn't mean I want your children. It doesn't mean I need to meet your family. I love you means I love who you are as a person. I have surpassed like and landed on love.

If you could, please disregard the previous letter left on your pillow. That has too much hubris dripping. Too much anger. Too many other emotions that negatively influenced the creation of that notice. 

This is your eviction notice. Your placeholder, an unattainable musician, is helping me move your memories. Not sure where they'll go but at this point, I don't want to know.

I fix things. I guess I'm a small scale personal life Scandal cast member. My advice stops car wreaks days before they happen.

The day your father told me that you were on your way, I told him that nothing is about him anymore. And maybe that’s a rude thing to say but honestly I will put you above him solely off the fact that you are a child.

Finding a balance between too much and too little has always been a task for me. But how do I successfully locate it when my map is showing me suggested roads that often lead me to make complex loops that take me back to where I was before?

When I import the music you send me into Zora, my computer, she asks me what disc information I want to put in for the songs. I always list your name as the album artist.