Dear Mom And Dad, Would We Have Been Friends In High School?
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Dear Mom And Dad, Would We Have Been Friends In High School?

An open letter to my parents evaluating our relationship.

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Dear Mom And Dad, Would We Have Been Friends In High School?
Aaron Doss

Dear Mom & Dad,

Would we have been friends in high school?

Adolescent, insecure, pubescent me from middle school and well on into high school knew the answer right off the top of his head: no. That version of myself saw the two of you in the present day as nothing less than perfection—Dad, you were always the king of the household with unwavering strength and a collected control of everything that made our little world go 'round; Mom, you were always the queen of my heart with enough charisma to move any mountain in my way.

So, I couldn't help but picture you two walking down the halls of our school hand in hand like Ferris and Sloane or Danny and Sandy. There was no way that the two of you would ever be friends with someone like me—the high school hierarchy would never allow it. Compared to you guys, I was average. Not super popular, not unliked. Not super hot, not bad looking. Not the smartest, not a dummy. Not a jerk, but still not the nicest guy. Not destined to be anything other than mediocracy. Annoying. Attention-seeking. Abnormal. Average.

And I've got to be honest: tween-age me didn't really care. The first time I was ever disappointed in our relationship is when I realized that you weren't as perfect as I once thought you were.

The high school version of me went through about fifty different reboots. Some of them were positive, most of them were negative. At times I thought I knew what I was doing, and other times I was completely lost. It was in the midst of all these trials of youth that I turned to you for answers, and you didn't have them, or at least you didn't have any of the ones I wanted to hear. So, I turned away from you. I strained our relationship and angered you. There were screams and tears and cold shoulders. All I could think about was how you lied to me. You aren't perfect, you never were. If you were perfect, you would've known how to fix me, and you would've known how to fix us. You should've known.

But time passed as it does and the storm passed with it. After too long of being mad at you for everything you weren't, I realized that I missed loving you for everything that you were. Dad, you are the king of the household with unwavering strength and a collected control of everything that makes our little world go 'round; you are also stupid funny, unnervingly quiet, and wickedly hard to read. Mom, you are the queen of my heart with enough charisma to move any mountain in my way; you are also a bit of a control freak with the perturbing desire to be right. And that is exactly what I need—you are perfect for me.

Somewhere along the road, the self-degradation and perfectionistic expectations for myself died, as well, along with my expectations for you two. I am funny. Creative. Full of life and love. Lazy. A bit of a quitter. A slight egomaniac, and sadly still a perfectionist. But that's okay.

So would we have been friends in high school?

The simple answer is: I don't know. I hope so. I had an image in my head of you once, and I have an image of every single person who passed me in the hallways in high school. These images aren't real, though; they're mirages. So whatever I thought of you when I was a kid, and whatever I would've thought of you if you were in my high school class, none of that really matters. Because you know me as the truest version of myself because I am your kid. I'm glad you don't have an altered image of who I am from passing me in the hallways. And I am so thrilled to spend the rest of our lives figuring each other out.

I love you to the moon & back.

-Aaron

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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