It's been a while since I wrote to you, and Teach got a little upset when she found out. I told her I lost you, and she didn't quite like that. She handed me another one of you and told me to restart, and I told her no thanks, I'd find you. Then I told her I didn't know why she cared, I was moving the next day, and she said she wanted one last letter before I went. She didn't care what the topic was, she just wanted me to write. What her fascination with you is, I have no idea.
It's not you, it's me. Things have been crazy what with prepping for the move and all. Dad's pretty M.I.A., but I'm guessing that's because if he came around here mom might stab him with the nearest butcher knife. She's taken to wearing an apron and carrying all sorts of sharp kitchen crap in the pockets, which is getting a little creepy.
The other night he did have the nerve to come over, when he thought I was out at a friend's. I came home and sat on the porch outside the door and heard them yelling something about me. Truth was, I didn't want to hear it, so I didn't listen. I pounded on the door before my mom could get past, "Just because she isn't the same way you are, or the same way I am..."
I wouldn't want to be like them, anyway.
Here's to a good run,
Jade
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