Letter 14
Dear Greg,
I don't know what to say. You were one of my best friends... Well, I've had a lot of best friends actually. But the thing is, you never left. You never got disappointed when I got 6th place, unlike mom or Abby. When I would cry as mom yelled at me for wasting my talent, and while Abby screamed at me for being a baby, you would hug me, telling I did my best and that you were proud. You were like my real dad.
I met you when I was 6 years old. It was actually when mom and my real dad were still married. I remember I was sitting at the counter, coloring a picture of Princess Belle with Kenzie. Mom had a business dinner and was waiting for you to pick her up for car pool.
Mom and Kurt started fighting. He said he didn't like that you had been spending so much time together, and that you were very close. Kenzie and I didn't care. Every time they fought they told us it was alright, and that every married couple fights. So we let it slide.
A year and a half later, mom and dad got divorced. After that I started seeing you a lot. Mom just said you were close friends, so you "hung out" a lot together. It turned out you were dating, and then a year after that you got married.
It was kind of weird having you move in at first. It had been mom, Kenzie, and I for 3 years, and then suddenly this man comes in. I thought we wouldn't be able to watch girly movies or do things like do each others hair and make up, but we still did.
We started doing family movie night together, and you still let us watch movies like Barbie (thanks, Kenzie) and you let us paint your toe nails bright pink. You were an amazing dad. You still are.
Sometimes I wish I was your daughter. Whenever your real kids, Lily and Garrett, visited, it was hard. Lily was a year older than me, so I believed everything she said. She said that he loved them more, and he was forced to be nice to us. Lily made Kenzie cry, saying she wasn't important.
I always thought those times you were nice to me were fake. Those times when you stayed home with me when I had the flu, making me chicken noodle soup and tea. When you stayed home with me when Mom and Kenzie were somewhere, promoting stupid "Mack Z." During those nights we would rent some scary movies, buy a ton of our favorite junk food, and eat them while hiding in our blankets.
I think you were meant to be a part of our family. With you it was better. Our family would have water balloon fights during the summer, you and me against Kenzie and mom. We usually won because we would get Nerf water guns and shoot them until they screamed, "Surrender!" Then they would yell at us for cheating, and we would just laugh.
Every Christmas we would buy matching onesies and Santa hats and watch Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate. Then we would put out store bought cookies for Santa because you said you were too lazy to make real cookies. Then you would wake us up in the morning with a bull horn.
Everybody always seemed so happy together. Even when I was diagnosed with depression, and mom said I was too sad to do anything, you tried to cheer me up. You would tickle me until I finally smiled, laughing and saying, "There's that smile I love!"
I hate to do this. I wish I was happy, but I'm just not. I've tried so hard to smile through the pain. It was like I was in a ocean, swimming, floundering, trying to stay above the current. Sometimes I would go under, but then somebody would pull me up, saving me from drowning. But right now nobody can save me. I'm done. The current is swallowing me, and I can't be saved.
I don't want people to grieve for me. Everybody is the reason I'm gone. You can't say, "I miss her so much" when you didn't help with my depression.
Greg Gisoni, I would like to thank you for being the father that was never there for me. For making me laugh and smile, even when I was at my lowest point. I want to thank you for being there for me when I felt like nobody was. I want to thank you for loving me when I thought everyone was against me.
And most of all, I want to thank you for being my best friend.
Love,
Maddie Moo.
