Letters With Boys

Tally and Kai, Week 7 - October

Morning Tally,

Had a great time with you this weekend, both Saturday and Sunday. Hope you don’t think I’m too much of a dork for not drinking. I’m kind of a lightweight since I don’t drink often, and I didn’t want to take any chances, since I was driving you home.

How do you think it went with convincing Mem to meet with my mom? It was hard for me to tell. She didn’t explicitly say no, but she didn’t say yes, either.

Also, as far as you know, is Bridget okay? Something seemed different about her. Not sad, exactly, but maybe… distracted?

Best,

Kai

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Hey Kai,

I had a great time, too! No worries on the not drinking thing. As you may have noticed, I’m not a huge drinker myself. Mem and Bridge tend to go much harder than me… in pretty much all facets of life, ha.

I’m not quite sure how it went with Mem either, to be honest. I agree that it’s some degree of accomplishment that she didn’t say no. She kind of tried to turn the tables on us afterwards, on the drive home, though—particularly on me. Said that if she needed therapy, then so did I. Which was a little harsh, but she’s probably not wrong.

So I think maybe now she’ll only go if I go. 

I’ll find a different person, obviously. Maybe your mom has some recommendations?

Bridge gets like that sometimes—quiet and distracted. Like Mem, sometimes I get the feeling there are things she isn’t sharing. I can’t really complain, though, because I know I do that, too.

Oh, also—it’s my 18th this Saturday, which happens to also be Halloween. Mem being a party girl and Bridge being an overachiever, they love to throw me giant costume parties every year. This year’s is at Bridge’s place Saturday night. Would love it if you came.

Tally

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Tally,

Forgive me if this is too personal, but can I ask why Mem is so insistent that you need therapy? You seem like a pretty together person for me—though like I said on Sunday, everyone can benefit from therapy, not just the “not together” people.

I’ll get with my mom this evening about other recommendations she might have, and I’ll enclose them with my next letter. Is money an issue at all? Some of these guys are ridiculously expensive, but if your parents have good insurance, it’s not quite so cringe-worthy.

I would love to come to your birthday. Do you have plans with the girls before hand? I would also love to take you out to dinner again, maybe this time even at an Italian place, to celebrate. If that’s something that interests you.

Yours,

Kai

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Kai,

I don’t usually (ever) tell people this, although a lot of the girls here at school know anyway because they remember it happening. But my dad died when I was 10. It was kind of a messed-up thing, as he killed himself by running his car in the closed garage at our vacation home. So, Mem probably isn’t wrong that I need therapy. I’m not really sure why my mom thinks I doesn’t—guess because I’m so good at pretending.

Like I said, that’s something we all have in common—me, Mem, and Bridge. So you don’t always know when or if something’s wrong, unless you really pay attention. Which it seems like you do, which is nice.

Please don’t go feeling bad or sorry for me, as it was a long time ago, and people have only just recently stopped looking at me like I’m a wounded puppy. I don’t really miss those looks, and I don’t really want to see them on your face. I’m okay, really. The only reason I’m asking about therapy is because it might convince Mem to go, who I think needs it a lot more than I do.

Money won’t be an issue, by the way. Dad left us with plenty. He might sound selfish, having killed himself despite having three kids and a wife, but he really wasn’t selfish at all.

I guess he was just really sad.

Dinner before my birthday sounds nice. I think I can handle Italian now.

If you have anything personal to share with me, please do. It doesn’t have to be about death or pain or misery. It could be anything. But it might make me feel less stupid.

Thanks,

Tally

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Tally,

There is no reason for you to feel stupid, or bad in any way, for what you told me. I will try as hard as I can to never look at you with pity. Honestly, I think I am more likely to look impressed the next time I see you—maybe even amazed. That is a really tough thing for anyone to go through, let alone someone who kicks as much ass as you do.

I do try to pay attention, and I think I have a decent gauge of telling when something is wrong with Mem or Bridge, but given that I had no idea about you and your dad, I’m starting to doubt those skills.

I’ve enclosed that information about other therapists and psychiatrists from my mom.

I’ve already told you most of my life story in person—how my mom came here from Somalia, and how she became a doctor here, met my dad, et cetera.

I guess one personal thing would be that I struggle more than I’ve ever really told anyone with the whole mixed-race thing. I mean, there’s the obvious reasons for that—that being even a little black in Granger means being treated as “less-than” by the overwhelmingly white population—something you and your friends obviously don’t do, by the way, which I am grateful for. 

It’s not just the racism thing, though. It’s kind of an identity thing. I mean, my parents are rich doctors, and I live in upper-middle-class, New England suburbia. When I do encounter black people, which doesn’t happen all that often, I often feel like they’re looking at me like a freak, or a hypocrite. It’s almost like, in trying so hard to get me away from the destitute life she lived back in Somalia, my mom unintentionally chopped off half my roots and rendered me unable to face that half of my identity.

Now that sounds like I’m blaming her, which I’m not. I’m not really even complaining; obviously I’m very lucky, and grateful, for everything she did and still does. And obviously I get that I have it better than most.

I just don’t want to avoid, or fear, that half of myself. You know? I want to embrace it. I just don’t really know how.

Anyway, enough about that. I just made reservations for Italian for two, and I can’t wait.

Happy Almost Birthday,

Kai