January 2nd, 1994

Dear You,

I don’t want to meet you. I am terrified of what you’ll ask me. What can I possibly say to make you not hate me? How am I supposed to explain to you why I gave you up? At the end of the day, I knew from the second I found out about you that I couldn’t keep you. You grew inside me for nine months with that energy. I can’t imagine how that must have affected your life. There’s no way it didn’t.

How do I explain to you that I was a silly girl in love that made a mistake? I certainly can’t use that word, because that makes you the mistake. Would you understand how much I loved him and how hurt I was when he left me? Then the pain that came when I realized I was pregnant and he was nowhere to be found. How can I tell you that I never even told him about you, that I never even tried to find him to tell him because I was too embarrassed? He doesn’t know, to this day, that you even exist.

I’ve even thought about how painful it will be if you look like him. I know that’s incredibly selfish, but I can’t help it. I was torn apart at my very core by the entire situation, but I knew that you would be better off raised by someone else. I’ve thought about it everyday , and wondered if I actually made the right choice.

I guess what I’m really afraid of is that you’ll be like me. I wouldn’t forgive me, so I can’t imagine how you would. And if you do forgive me what are we supposed to do then? Do we forge some sort of strange new relationship? I’d have to explain who you were to everybody, and dragging up that particular part of my past is something I don’t even want to think about. What if we meet and I fall in love with you and you don't want to continue the relationship? It would be like losing you again.

There is just too much at stake. I can’t help thinking that if would just be better for both of us if we just don’t ever meet… but I don’t know.

Me