Regret Is Not My Forte!
{ARMANDO}
No one has reminded me how good it feels after talking to a mother. The love from a mother and all that.
Okay, maybe if I had ever given a shit about the therapy sessions I would have found out. Right?
Eh! Who am I kidding? I was never going to talk to her or to the man who came here and began asking people about me. What did he want? To have a perspective? I thought therapists are not supposed to go around and ask others about their patients?
He broke the accord.
Again, eh!
I am awake earlier. Why am I even thinking about my waking time, it is not like it matters.
But here I am laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling thinking about my mother. The feeling of relief passes through me each time I think about her. I don't remember the last time I felt this way.
My shoulders are light.
I feel alive.
I feel great.
I want to sing at the top of my lungs how I feel.