Chapter Twenty-Eight: Straight From Your Heart

Dearest Theresa,

          I'm sure your first instinct was to throw this letter away. I mean, who could blame you? I'm hoping that curiosity got the best of you, and if you're reading this, I guess it did.

          I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for kissing you, for running away...I'm sorry for everything. I guess I've just been confused lately. About everything. And I met you, and you were—and are—so wonderful that I just kind of latched on you. I made you someone you never even dreamed of being, and I'm sorry for putting you in such a bad place. I don't know what's going on with me, what's happened inside my head that's made me turn out so wrong, but I hope one day you can accept me, and maybe we can be friends. For real this time. Not starting out as friends and then me getting some weirdo obsession with you.

          I'm going away again, for a while. Indefinitely, they said. It could be a day, a week, a month, a year...I'm not sure. They didn't really plan this out. But it's not a running away thing again. It's a being taken away thing. Maybe you'd be more comfortable with that idea, I don't know where you stand anymore. You probably want nothing to do with me, and I don't really blame you.

          I'll try to stop loving you. Maybe I'll succeed. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, too. Maybe I don't know what love is, but I think this is it. Maybe they can fix me.

          I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I hope you don't curse my name every time you think of me, if you ever can think of me. I hope my name doesn't make you start vomiting in disgust.

          I don't know where I'm going with this. I miss you, but I know we can never be together the way I hope for, so I'm starting to hope we can just be together.

Love,

Manny Santos

          Manny stared at the letter. She had written it so many times, her hand ached. Crumpled it so often that she had several paper cuts. She was in her room, which again held her belongings. She was supposed to just grab some clothes and leave, but she made her mother promise she'd get a letter to someone. She didn't tell her who, and didn't know if her mother would read it. She probably would, but Manny didn't care. As long as it got there. As long as Theresa knew she was trying for repentance, everything would be okay. As long as she forgave her.

          Manny couldn't find the words, the perfect words, the words she needed. She didn't even know if writing 'dear' or 'dearest' or 'love' was proper. But she needed Theresa to read it. She hoped she would.

          She sighed and folded it into an envelope. The paper cuts would worry her mother. But she was already going to a psychiatric hospital, there wasn't much more they could do to her. Except hit her, but that would defeat the purpose of trying to release Manny from all the pain she had been feeling.

          Manny thought about writing a letter to Emma, but her mother knocked on the door before she could think of what to say.

          "Hold on one more minute," Manny called. She put the envelope into a larger one and wrote 'Emma Nelson' on it. Emma would get it to Theresa, even if her mother wouldn't. She had to trust Emma with this responsibility.