It hurts.
To sit here and watch you watch me break down.

It hurts.
That I can't be the child you want.

It hurts.
That I can't tell you the truth, even though I don't know it myself.

It hurts.
It actually PHYSICALLY hurts.

And I know there's nothing that either of us can do about it.

I know you've waited so long for that day when I'll come to you and just pour out all my feelings.

I regret to say that that day may never come.

There is something in me that won't let me cry, won't let me feel, and won't let me laugh for real when you're around.

And it hurts.
Because it makes me hate you, so very deeply.

Why is it you that makes me like this and has lasting effects days after the last time I saw you?

It hurts.
Because sometimes there are times when I come to you with my heart open and you crush it.

I guess, this is why we don't get along no matter how hard you try.

Cause it hurts.

Because you are my mother.