I love you less and less every day. More than a year has passed since I left you. It's not been easy on my part as it is on yours. The thing is, it's been going great for me: I'm having fun, I feel independent and responsible, and most of all, I don't carry the world on my shoulders anymore.
Growing up in a broken family does horrible things to you and it's not very comfortable to talk about to anyone but the people who are closest to my heart. I've done everything to surpass teenage rage has done to me and I finally emerge as a person I want to become; not a person my parents ought me to be.
I left you for a reason. Eighteen years I've been with you, and the one year I'm not, it's like my first gasp at a violent breath of life. It's amazing how a mother-daughter relationship could mean everything to you. After all, you we're born out of her body and her heart. But it's also fascinating how a mother-daughter relationship could be so broken and torn apart.
You blackmail me like I'm your work enemy. I'm your fucking daughter, for crying out loud. What's a little money for education support? You keep on buying your Chanel bags and save money up to travel across the world for a one-month vacation and you can't support me without blackmail?
I guess decency is foreign to both of us. I don't know if you can stand any more of my acts, but I sure as hell can't stand you anymore. There will be no trade-offs. My father and I will make it on our own. Thanks.