Dear T,

I wish you'd talk about your husband. I know I'd get jealous but I hate that he's such a mystery. But I know why you don't tell me too much; it always triggers me. If I start to think about you and your H in bed, I have to quick think of something else. I don't want sex with you but I get excited by you. I think you know that already, though.

You told me about that medical procedure and I feel weird imagining it.
I asked you once about your being so thin. Sometimes it really bothers me and I worry about you.

I want you to sit next to me, or even hold me, when I talk about the growing up stuff. I know you won't, though. I want to say all the words without blushing. I want to cry with you afterwards.

I don't know if I believe in EMDR the way you do. I think you trust it a little too much.

I found something online and I treasure the quote by your relative who thinks you have outstanding qualities. I want to tell you I read that and that I agree.