My Father saw me walking to the train and gave me a lift.
We spoke about my brother, work, and stuff.
Oh, my mother was also in the car.
I’ve chosen not to speak to her since the blow out, and so I did not.
An hour later my father calls me to ask me to apologize to her for not speaking.
Violins On.
Apparently, between me and my brother it's just, oh too much to bear. So she was at the store crying.
Violins Off.
Whatever.
I didn’t throw pity parties when she made me cry.
If she’d pause long enough to wipe the crocodile tears, she’ll see the role she played in my response to her today.
SUCK IT UP!
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