To my Father

Dear Father,

So I've written to you already, and didn't want to write to you again, but eh. The heart wants what the heart wants; sometimes it doesn't even know what the heck it wants, but goshdarnit, it's wanting something all the freaking time. But I really, really miss being able to talk to you and have you understand me. We were great at one point, a true father-daughter team completely in-sync with one another; now I am going my own direction and you continue in yours.

It sucks. That's all. And I don't know how to make it un-sucky.

With much upsetitude,
Irene.

P.S. They say that if one makes a thousand paper crane, any one wish they make will come true. If I had the energy or the paper, I would make all of them in a week; but perhaps the answer is patience and energy. Oh Chinese fortune makers, how I hate your conundrums.