Dear Sam,

I watch the June bugs crawl around as the fireflies float and light up my porch. It makes me want to let go, give in and be free. Part of me wants to tell you, you do light up this tiny space, my world. Your humor and compassion, that coolness and great love for music make me feel like I’m back in our hometown, but I’m not. I did escape that world and left for college to start over. I started over in an empty land full of strangers and oddly, I felt safe. I felt safe from a mother who cracked over-over and over like an egg and left me reeling to clean up the mess, and I did. Yeah, I always did.

For my lovely sister was busy, twisted up like a vine with her massive choice of boys in the jungle. She had that kind of power, truly, while Mother was blank and I was lost. We were all lost, really. All of us, trying to get one foot back on the ground. Maybe one day I will find you through the cracks and the crevices. Maybe one day you will appear with those fireflies. And all that beautiful, yellow light, it will pour in.