Clothes shopping and you know what that means, more "I don't care," to come from me. You heard right, I don't care about what clothes I get. If I really did care about the clothes I got, my mom would blow up on me.
Life is hard enough as it is, but throw in the hater family and it just became mission: impossible. We walk through all the aisles of clothes with the constant, "Do you like this, or how about this?" The reality of it all is I don't actually care. Once upon a time I did care, but I got yelled at because, "That's meant for girls."
Then we move on to her section and I just walk around, almost brought to tears due to the fact that I can't get any clothes I actually like. If only she could see my life through my eyes, then my mom would know that it's not just a phase. Then she'd know that's who I really am and if I want clothes like that, then I really do want them it's not just some joke to try and get some laughs.
Until I can find the courage to say something about, I'm stuck crying in my head walking through the clothes that I'll never own. Only to know that my mom doesn't care, even in the most minuscule of ways, that I'm not who she thinks I am. That I'm not her little boy anymore.
She needs to finally learn that I grew up and I'm not that little boy who wanted to be a firefighter. Now I'm me, the sensitive, somewhat sweet girl that only my real friends know.
DU LIEST GERADE
Trapped In Another Body
SonstigesI just needed a space to vent my feelings, I finally found tht place and if I annoy u thn find something else to read, if u like what I write thn plz follow.
