Let me tell you a story. The story in which you can't tell who was ever right and who was wrong. It's a story about my life, my really cool, but completely fucked up life.
I was young...and pretty darn stupid. All of what happened was my fault. But I was forgiven for my mistakes. And here I am a forty year old woman with no one else but a twenty year old son, who I still hope won't repeat his father's mistake of falling for a stripper.
~~
"Eddie..."an old lady's voice interrupted the boy, caught in the small crime of reading his mother's diary."What are you doing in my room boy?"She questioned quietly, leaning against the door frame.
"I was just...reading your diary.."He spoke quietly not even trying to hide it.
A sigh escaped the woman's tired lips as she smiled weakly. 'Well...there is no point in hiding it anymore...right?' she thought to herself, exiting the room. No words spoken.
Eddie took the opportunity and once again flipped through the pages.
His eyes carefully scanned what was written. No dates, no timelines, as if everything was written in one breath, as if his mother was just trying to get all of this off her chest.
'Was it all that bad..?'The boy questioned himself.
It was true at some point, his mother never spoke of anything regarding her past. And Edward had yet to understand why.