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"She loved...In advance she loved the man she'd one day love. And if she wanted she could allow herself the luxury of becoming even more sensitive, she could go further still."
Clarice Lispector

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Mei Langdon. The Best Daughter Ever.


That was the engraving her mother had requested a Nile* seller put on a fake plastic Oscar, her sixteenth birthday gift: a peaceful settlement of their disputes over her career paths, arms held open for an embrace, and acceptance.

       Her Chinese-Indonesian mother who only knew of five college majors (computer science, medical, law, accounting, business), who worried over the stability of her children's futures, opening her mind to the idea of her only daughter going to film school. It was a moment of triumph, of pure joy seeping through her skin and coursing through her blue-green veins. The loveliest moment of her life. A symbol of her mother's love and trust in her decisions.

       She was so sure of her decisions and choices back then. Was so sure that she could make it through film school, graduate, direct a comedic blockbuster, and make it big time. She had so much conviction, she did not know where all that sureness and fire went to. All that Mei knew now was that she's a giant pile of disappointment and there's broken trust littering around on the ground next to her.

       She could faintly hear her mother's cries from the master bedroom, her father's empty nothings whispered into her sobbing mother's left ear, and them opening the door to the living room. Her mother heavily leaning towards her father for support but with a sureness inside her eyes.

       "It's okay for you to drop out. It's a shock but we'll come around. I'll come around."

  
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* A parody of Amazon

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