50 People I'd Rather Be With Than You

49.

49. Your mother. She really hated me. Even from the very first moment that she met me. “Oh, this is who you’re dating? How…different.” Different. Christ, your mom hated me. I bet I was the first person you brought home who got a “different” from your mom. And that was before she even knew me. When we actually sat down for dinner, it just got worse. For some reason, she decided to bring in both politics and religion to the discussion, just to fuel her already growing hatred for me. “Oh, you’re an independent? How…different.” “An atheist? Really? Hmmm…very different.” I always knew I was different. I just didn’t know that your mother would use it as a synonym for utterly-unacceptable-to-date-my-child. That was just the beginning, though. Between the debacle at your sister’s wedding (“Gray…what a different color”) and our first Christmas (“So you really don’t celebrate? How…different”) and the time you stranded me in Madrid with her for an hour (“You don’t speak Spanish? How…different”), it’s safe to say that we won’t exactly be reconciling any time soon. But you already knew that, didn’t you?