Hi. For some reason, I started thinking about you tonight. I don’t remember what brought the thought of you to me. But it prompted me to search for you again. And it’s made me realize that I really know nothing about you. I know your name. But what if you have remarried? I know your age… I think. 17 + my age, right? I know the city that you live in. Or have you moved?
There are a lot of people that have your name, it seems. But no one I found is you… at least I don’t think. I have no idea where to even begin. Then the question comes… do I really want to begin?
It’s been a really long time. What, 22 years? 23? Not exactly sure. That’s long enough that I can say I honestly don’t know you. If I found you, what would you think? Would you even care? See, here’s the thing. I want to think that you’d care. But then again, if 23 years have gone by, and you’ve never reached out to me, maybe you don’t. Or do you care, and you just are afraid to reach out? It’s all so confusing.
If I reach out, would you reject me? Or would you be angry? Will it have been best if I had never searched for you at all? Sometimes I think that’s the better solution — not invite bad into this by looking for you.
But… the idea of you or me possibly dying before we reach out to each other worries me. What if I miss out on what might be the best thing I’ve ever done?
I have no idea what to do. But the thing is — even now that I am questioning it, I don’t even know how to even go about this.
I’m very, very easy to find. My name is pretty unique. A google search on my name brings up a ton of information. But you… you are not. So I guess I wait then. Maybe you will reach out to me. Maybe you’ll actually get to be at my wedding, should that day ever come. Maybe we’ll start over, and be mother and daughter again. I could even try to learn sign language so I can communicate with you. Or maybe you won’t reach out. Ever.
So IÂ wait.
