“A letter to my mother”

A young pedophile recently showed me the letter he wrote to his mother. He hasn’t found the courage yet to give it to her. Not yet. He did agree that I publish it here.

Hey mom,

I’m here to tell you how I feel
Tell you how I’ve been
Tell you that I’ve lied
Tell you the truth
And to tell you that I love you
Tell you I worry if you’ll love me after this

When you’ve asked how I’ve been
I’ve said I was fine
In truth, I’ve been far from fine
I’ve been horrible, cried, bit myself, cut myself,
thought about killing myself
All because I am… depressed.

I’m here to tell you what I think
Tell you how my opinions have been trapped in my head
Tell you how our beliefs are far from the same
Yes, those beliefs

I know you’ve tried to get me to go to church
You probably see past my shitty excuses
But at church I feel judged, I feel like I can’t be myself
At church I have so many objections
Please, I still want you to love me after this next line
All because I am… an atheist.

I’m here to tell what I am
Tell you who my “girlfriend” is
Tell you that I’m talking to guys
No, I’m not gay, it’s worse

I’ve been this way ever since I was a child
About 13, and you know the fucked images I saw
I still remember the time we were sitting on the sofa
Watching a movie, when you said that you were afraid
That you were afraid that I would turn into one of “those” men
But, you were wrong.

Well, partially wrong.
I will never do the things “those” men do
I will however… think, imagine, fantasize about what “those” men do

Please, I don’t want you to hate me
Remember when we were at the children psychratric
We were gonna have a meeting about what she reported
When I asked you to go, so I could talk to her alone You said,
“No matter what, I will still love you”
I, really hope that you will
Because I am… a pedophile.

I’m scared now
Tell me what you think, please
Tell me as soon as possible
Tell me that you still love me
Know that wanting to do something is not the same as doing something
Doing what “those” men do is horrible

But, I can’t change myself
I can’t change myself to not like… children
Please Still love me

Kindest regards,
your youngest son

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