Slightly tired

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"Hey, mom." I said, as I walked through the front door. She looked at me, surprised. Trying to cover up her shock, she coughed and looked down before replying with a quiet 'hello'.

"Uh, mom.. I was thinking about something, and I decided I should talk to you about a lot of stuff. " I sighed, frustrated with myself. "I'm tired of lying, mom..." She nodded, putting the knife she was using to cut up tomatoes down.

"Well then explain, I don't have anything better to do." You see, once I started acting the way I had, my mother developed a attitude. It was a mutual thing we shared at the moment. But right now I'd really appreciate if she stopped being a stuck up bitch, and give me some time to tell her something serious.

All of a sudden, I burst out in tears. Did I really make her hate me this much? I couldn't believe it, my own mother couldn't even stand me. How was I suppose to stand myself?

"Listen, uhm ill talk to you later." My voice cracked with every word, but my mother ignored it, oblivious to my tears because I wasn't really sobbing or making any noise and I had turned my head to side. She nodded out of the corner of my eye, and turned back around.

I've tried to convince myself that this wasn't real, or this isn't what I thought it was. But everything was exactly as it seemed, every prop was set in place, ready to start it's premiere in my life, and here i was still stuck in rehearsal. And I was tired of it. Tired of being treated like a six-year old, tired of everyone judging me based off of another persons gossip.

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