It’s not like we just met yesterday. Even if what inside my mind is a mystery, you of all people should’ve be able to tell. I admit, expecting you to understand me is a flaw of mine. But when you keep conclude that I’m such a bad person without bothering to understand the reason behind my every action, it gets to my nerve.
I am a person. In her every breath find it hard to let her own mother hug her because the love that the mother gave suffocates her. In her awkward way try to love her parent with every second they have.
is it too much if I find it hurts to believe that you of all people think really bad of me? Is it so hard to believe on me? You do not gave or give me any single moments or right to be sad, angry or selfish. And then you have the nerve to ask me to love my self when you are the one who steal such a previous part of me. Every time I fall apart you just really have the nerve to get angry and say how much of mess that I made. Doesn’t it ever occur to you that you are the reason of all the mess? Don’t say you love me, don’t say you care about me. Because mother, after amok this years, your sweet words is what I found impossible to believe. And your cursing word? It’s exciting how I easily believe it without hesitate at all..