Mom didn't understood me right away. As usual she had one of her screaming breakdowns telling me what should I do with my life (this was so cindy lauper). Far most I was going to spend the very next day at my dad's, by the pool trying to read a little bit more, diggest my feellings and of course trying to fell better. Of one thing I was certain, I could count on my dad for companionship, just not with some subjects (this one not particularly). But my mother, I expected her to get it immediatly. As you may see, what really happened was that she said things like: - this is not acceptable, you just spend your hole day out, how can a boy your age can be so full of hurt. Was it I that hurted you so badly? Anyway what is your problem? Go study, get a job, go to work, get your own money, do something with your fucking life, try harder on getting to be somebody, stop depending on your father for once.
What she simply meant was for me to get a life. But what she said , and the way she said it was only more hurtfull.
And no she did not stopped at that point, she said things like: all you do is complain the hole day long about your life and the people on it as if I was as bad as a person as you say I am.
Oh god i'm looking forward for that pool tomorrow.
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