One half of me is always going to be routine, always safe, always sound. Family dinners, family pictures, family road trips, family game nights. This other half of me was crazy, sporadic, and spontaneous, in a way I never imagined a family to be. But also, despite the fact that most people my age had "a" family, I, had two. Growing up, I couldn't wait to see you all, even the crazy uncle(s) throwing food and even, some of my other cousins, around. To me, I wasn't whole unless I left the safe side of my family and ventured into the crazy half, even for a little while. I carried my last name with me for years as if that was my greatest accomplishment. That is what you all told me to believe. "We're the strongest, we're not to be played with." Now, I look at it, write it out, introduce myself, and constantly remind myself that maybe now, it's a crutch. A constant reminder that that's not who I am anymore. As I grew older, you all seemed to forget that family never goes away, no matter how hard you try. You left me. I no longer see the crazy uncles, drunk grandparents, my "superhero" of a father. And as I grow older I don't even know if my younger siblings will know who I am. Can I ask why? Can I ask how we got here? I'm supposed to believe that it's that easy to give up on your family? Is that what you wanted me to learn from this?

At fifteen years old I was told that I was the reasoning behind the shattering of this family, this half of me, that I have spent my whole life trying to piece together, even though the resistance was the only thing I could see as I kept moving forward. This family I had worked so hard to keep together, had fallen apart. The only lesson I had learned from this was that no matter how hard I tried to fix things - for not only me, but this entire "half" of me that I had believed to be so incredible - you all only think about the benefits you can achieve from someone. Not even the matter of blood, can keep you all together.

So I suppose this isn't a letter to only the part of me that fell apart, but also to the half of me that has stuck together. Thank you, for showing me that family does not give up on one another, no matter what. Even in your hardest days, you need family. Although half of me has fallen apart, and I don't think I will ever have that back, I look to my stronger half to show me that no matter what life has to throw at me, I can look to my family. Before I look at any significant other, to any friend, to anybody. My "safest" side, to go to whenever I am in trouble, in need of advice, or in need of some information on my latest traffic ticket. I look to my family on some of my best days, some of my worst days, and some of those days where all I do is spam the family group chat with pictures of myself, with everrry snapchat filter. Thank you for raising me, each and every one of you, to appreciate family, and to understand that even though we may not always see eye to eye on everything, I wouldn't trade any of you for the world.