Open up
11:45 p.m.

Tiffany,

I love you.

Please tell me what's wrong.

Or tell Val.

We care. We love you. It's horrible to see you so obviously in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

Why won't you tell us what's wrong?

Does it make you feel better to exclude us? You build up walls between yourself and us that only go one way, and that way is from us to you. You know almost everything that's going on with me, and that's going on with Val, and yet we have almost no clue what's going on with you. We live with you. We see you every day. But then we get home every so often and your door is locked, and you're unresponsive, and I don't know what we're supposed to do?

Sometimes it seems like you don't think we'd be able to understand your big-girl problems. Like you can't tell your children Mommy and Daddy don't love each other anymore.

Well, I'm sorry, Tiff, but if you're too good for us, then I don't want to know. I mean, come on, if you're going to act like this, and shut yourself away, why should I even care?

Or do you jsut want to keep up the I'm-a-character-who-only-has-a-one-part-personality thing? Because happy-all-the-time isn't as much fun as you think. Frankly, it just makes me feel worse for being extremely moody.

And really, I have too many things to deal with. You can either tell me what's wrong, or pretend there's nothing wrong better more convincingly than you have been. Just make the mystery go away. If I have to deal with all this cherry-on-top tension much longer, I'm going to have a mental breakdown.

And I am serious.

Love,

Holly

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