I ask Dad what my mom used to worry about. Like, what were her day-to-day concerns? Dad said she used to worry about putting on weight, even though she had the willowy figure of a model. Can you imagine, having so much food to eat you could get fat from it?  Sometimes she worried that she should be a better wife, a better mom to Dep. He says she wasn’t perfect. Far from it. But he loved her just the way she was. I like that.

My hopes, my dreams, my fears? Staying alive, staying alive and staying alive. Kidding. Kinda. Other than not dying an untimely death, according to all the books I read, my teen desires aren’t too removed from the old world. I wouldn’t mind finding a nice boy, go out on an approximation of a date, hold hands. That sorta thing. Gah. I hope to God Dad or Dep don’t ever snoop here. Mortifying. Dad, Dep – if you are reading this YOU should be ashamed of yourselves. Stop RIGHT NOW and we will never speak of this awful transgression upon my privacy.

Of course I think about…’it’. I mean, I haven’t even kissed anyone, so let’s not get too carried away. But yeah. How I would even entertain the idea after Dad’s version of the birds and the bees, is beyond me, but I guess biology wins. Dad’s biggest fear is me getting pregnant – ever. As if the experience with Denise didn’t scar me for life already. But as I get older, I realize that anything can happen, and not doing something because of the ‘mights’ is not a way to live. But that could just be the hormones talking.

So that helped me to decide to reply to Ben’s note.