Twenty

Written on 2017/9/1.

When I was a child you told me right here that all I needed to do was try my best.

How long have you been waiting tables, sleeping on the couch until noon, writing and drinking on the weekends?

Look, it’s not easy after what I’ve been through, I’m getting better and I’m getting out of this.

If your mother saw this she’d say the same thing, get out and go do something real.

You don’t know what we talked about – I’m making my choices and she always wanted that.

She wanted you to be successful, not with no friends and throwing up every Saturday.

We’ve had this conversation and you won’t talk about my friends, not after everything.

Then maybe let’s not talk and you can just never start turning around.

You think this is all about you, when I’m facing right where –

Of course it’s about me, it’s about me and your mom.

Really, you’ll use a dead woman to tell me how –

Have some respect, don’t talk about her that way.

Then keep this between the two of us.

The anniversary and memorial was last Saturday. They had her pictures all around.

Yeah, you already told me.

Did you see her?

I wanted to.

Did you?

No.

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