There’s so much I want to tell you, but I don’t know from where or how to start. 
Maybe I’ll start off with saying sorry. I’m sorry for all that I’ve put you through. I’m sorry you had to see me go through things, and I’m sorry for the times you’ve felt helpless. I’m sorry I hurt myself, and I’m sorry I made you feel like that was because of you. It wasn’t, I promise. I’m sorry for the times I’ve let you down, and disappointed you. I know you didn’t expect me to turn out this way. I wish I could change it. I’m sorry for making you cry. I’m sorry for frustrating you. I’m sorry for being stubborn. Your idea of a daughter is way different from how I turned out. 

I also want to thank you. For being so patient with me. For trusting in me. For being there for me. For all the times you’ve forgiven me, even when I wasn’t even close to deserving it. I want to thank you for being the angel that you are. I honestly am so goddamn lucky to have you. 

And it is because of that I find it hard to do what I’ve wanted to do for years now. I’m tired, ma. I’m so tired of living. Of waking up every day and being disappointed that I did. I’m tired of being tired. I want to just end it all, but I’m so scared of what will become of you. I already cannot forgive myself for all that I’ve put you through. I don’t think even hell would have a place for me if I did what I wanted to. 

I just hope that if the day comes, you don’t blame yourself. It was never because of you. On the contrary, you are the reason I’m still here after all these years. But I don’t know how much longer I can carry on. Should anything happen, I want you to know I love you to bits and pieces. With every fibre of my being. 

I’m sorry, again. 

Love,
A.