Sincerely Me: Letters from My OCs

Dear Rita

OCs from: Love Me When I'm Unlovable

9/17/22

You promised you'd be back. You promised you'd be back for me. I'm still waiting. I miss you.

Do you remember the last time you saw me? I do. You cried. I never see you cry.

You got down on your knee and you looked up at me.
"I love you, Ash," you said. "I love you so much. And I promise I'll be back. I'll find you. If it takes forever, I'll find you. I promise." Then you hugged me and kissed me and told me you loved me. And you waved to me from the car until I couldn't even see your car.
Maybe it will take you forever to find me.

Christmas passed, Rita. You missed it. I didn't get any presents. They don't think I can understand them. They don't think I can understand them when they say that they didn't get me any presents because I won't know anyways. They said that, Rita. And you weren't here to tell them that I could understand. That I did know. I need you. I need you to understand me. No one else seems to.

I have a new foster family. The mom is Alina and the dad is Brandon. They don't understand me. They think there's something wrong with me. The same as usual. Nonverbal autism. I don't have autism. You know that. You know I can talk. But without you, there's no one to tell them that. Whenever they look at me, I freeze up. And I can't stop it.

I want to tell you all of this now, but I can't. Do you remember when we would rant to each other? It was mostly you doing the ranting. The next time we see each other, I have things to rant to you about. Do you remember how you would pace across the room and you would yell about Hannah abandoning us? You were always so mad about that. You said that you and she always took care of each other. She took care of you when we were little, and you took care of her later. And then she abandoned us. But you would never tell me why. That frustrated me.

You told me that any time I had feelings about you or Hannah that I couldn't put into words or I didn't have the courage to put into words, to write them down in letters and you would read them.

Do you remember when you would get so frustrated with our foster parents that you would yell at them? If they were mean to me, you would yell at them. If they were mean to you, you would yell at them. You yelled a lot. But never at me.

Never.

You always talked quietly with me. Well, maybe not quietly. But you never yelled. My new foster parents yell a lot. They yell when I drop things. They yell when I'm too loud. They yell when their other daughter, Ophelia, gets upset with me. Ophelia is their "real" daughter, they say.

I'm not. I know that. I'm not their son. I'm not their family. I'm your family. I'm your little brother. I'm yours. You told me that. Remember?

Please come back, Rita. I miss you.

Love, your favorite brother, Asher