To my childhood home, 

As I am sitting on this hill, this hill that I grew up running around on, this hill that I would sing my songs to, I feel the sharp poke from the dry grass as I turn around and face you, the house I grew up in. The weathered siding and the falling fence remind me of all the bright sunny days as a kid. I break down at the thought of not coming back here again, but I am not. 

As many good memories as there are, the good does not outweigh the bad. Just like you, I am weathered, broken, and worn out, I feel I need to leave, I need to rebuild myself. Just like how I wish I could have rebuilt you. 

I remember what you looked like in my youth. The way the lights would reflect the memories off the walls. You could see the happiness inside. The bright smiles across my parent's faces, as they stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching my siblings and I prance throughout the kitchen. The movie nights in the den that my father decorated. The way that the smell of my mom's freshly baked chocolate chip cookies would waft through the rafters. The windows faced the fresh green grass in the summer, the rows of wildflowers would go on for acres. I am sorry for always tracking mud through the kitchen. 

I wish you still looked like how you did in my youth. The lights no longer reflect due to the peeling paint. I would still love to dance through the kitchen, but I no longer have that cheerful audience. The den has been destroyed by my father’s anger and my mother has not been around to bake cookies for a while. The grass outside is now a dead brown, that crunches beneath my feet. Weeds have replaced the wildflower, like how the darkness replaces the light at night. I’m sorry that my father never fixed you.

 I am sorry that I could not fix my father either, mother tried too. Maybe you would be in better shape, father would not be as angry, and mother would be here to make her cookies. I wish I could assimilate the love they had given you. 

But mother left father, just like I am leaving you. Without noise, without a trace, just a letter. 

With love,

A girl who wants her childhood back