A Letter to Mom

Hi Mom,
 
I know it’s been a while since I’ve written. I think I spent the past several months too in my head about everything: home, magic, family, my letters. I mean, I’m not even sure if you read these. I’ve never stayed anywhere long enough to find out. I’ve been too afraid. I’ve been afraid that you won’t write back.
 
Now, I find myself in a situation where you might not be able to write back. I might not be able to write to you in the first place. I’m suddenly so mad at myself for all the fear. I’ve spent nearly two years afraid I would never be welcomed back home. I’ve been afraid that the twins have turned you against me, or that even Max has. I’ve been afraid that I’d lost my family. And what did that fear really get me?
 
I let my fear get the best of me with the circus, too. I’ve left the circus, by the way. I couldn’t bring myself to write to you about it when it happened. I was ashamed and afraid that it would be some indication that Max was right and I never should have gone in the first place. Because I’m glad I did. I’m glad I got to spend time with Dad and meet some of the people with the circus. I’m only sad that I let my fear get in the way of that: fear of losing your love, fear of my own magic, fear of being alone. But I’m not afraid anymore.
 
I met these people and they’re so great. I wish I could tell you all about each of them, but I don’t have room. I’ve barely known them for a week, but I’ve felt at home with them. I felt the sense of family with them that I think I’ve always been searching for. When I’m with them I don’t feel alone and I feel seen and appreciated. And I’m not as afraid to keep exploring my magic. And I know we all have each other’s backs.
 
I hope that doesn’t hurt you too much. I know you loved me, but I was never completely a part of the family. I was the child from another man or the weird tiefling sister. I know you tried and I love you for that. I play the viol you gave me every day and I think of you. It’s still my most prized possession. You are my mother and I will always love you. I hope you’ll always love me too. I wish I hadn’t been too afraid to find out. I wish I knew now. I wish I knew if you read my letters and tried to write back. I wish I knew if you still loved me.
 
I don’t think I’ll be writing again for a while. I’m going somewhere far away and I think it will be too hard to communicate from there. I just want you to know that I’m okay and that I’m happy. I hope you think of me every day because I think of you every day. You are the heart in all my songs.
 
Your daughter,
 
Lottie