I don’t understand. I don’t know what she means. I’ve disappointed her more times than the rest of my family combined, so what’s changed? Nothing. Nothing about me has changed. I’m the same, old me I always was. On a scale from one to ten, this would be a solid twelve in terms of randomness. She never compliments me. She never says the things normal mothers are supposed to say when they love their child. Heck, I don’t even think she loves me. And even if she somehow does, she certainly doesn’t show it.
I’m about to shut off my phone and mentally mark this off as a fluke when the typing bubbles emerge back up. The twenty seconds it takes for my mother to type are the longest twenty seconds of my life. Anticipation is practically jumping out of my belly, waiting for a possible explanation for this bizarre behavior. I saw the news. Good job. I’m happy for you and Brynleigh. Truly. I’m glad things are looking up for you.
