I think she knew.
The persistence in her words, almost as if she's begging. The finality in her tone, as if I'm not supposed to have any other choice. I think she noticed the red marks on my neck when I was fifteen. But I didn't have a boyfriend. Just a girl best friend.
She'd list all his charms for me like I'm supposed to fall in love with him if she explained it well.
"Date him" almost came as a plea. I did. Three years and one secret ex-girlfriend later. I think she knew.
And she wants a him for me. Not a her. And I let her.
Because mother knows best.
10:17
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anx·i·e·ty
Randomyou were six and you're never good enough. you do this wrong, you did that right -but not quite. you were six. and you're never good enough. you're thirteen and ain't smart enough. you can't pronounce faux pas properly. you cannot derive formulas...
