I called Mom to wish her a happy mother's day, this morning. She sounded excited to hear from me, then started pressing me for details about where I'm living, what I'm doing for money and when am I going home to see her and Dad. Then she put Sadie on the phone as if talking to my little sister would convince me to go back. Guilt doesn't work on me. Neither does manipulation or tears/hysterics/drama.
I love my parents but they shouldn't be surprised I'm the way I am. They're the ones who raised me. And they have no right to call me a bad son. I called her for her fucking day, didn't I?
I love my parents but they shouldn't be surprised I'm the way I am. They're the ones who raised me. And they have no right to call me a bad son. I called her for her fucking day, didn't I?