I waited until 11pm because that's what I had promised you. I wasn't really surprised when you didn't come home...again. You haven't spent a night at home in a while. It seems that sleeping in your car (or who knows where) is better than being here. Wasn't surprised when you didn't text me your plans. Avoiding communication is par for the course for you lately.
Earlier today, you asked me if we could go back to the way it used to be...and my answer was no. Crystal clear answer to me but it seemed like a surprise to you. Not quite sure why since to be honest, "the way it used to be" has basically sucked for a while now. It broke my heart to tell you no because you're my son and my instinct is to try to keep you safe. You don't know how much I wish I could turn back the hands of time and make this better! Sadly, between your abuse of drugs and alcohol, your anger and emotional abuse, and your refusal to get help, having you here means the rest of the family is at risk. As much as I love you, I can't allow you to stay here until you're ready to get therapy and medication. I hate this...but I will always love you. My son is still in there somewhere. I refuse to give up on you!
I've packed your clothes, stripped your bed, shed more than a few tears as I've reminisced about the years I've been privileged to be your mom. I'm ready to let your 21 year old self go, not because I don't love you but because I do. It's time to fly from the nest...I hope you will find your way in the world safely. Please don't forget where home is...we'll be here if you need us.
With all my love,