Concern causes lines of indentation to appear on her forehead, and her lips curve downward. She tilts her head slightly and then reaches out to me, her arms spread out wide before enveloping my slumped-over body.
“What’s wrong?” she asks after planting a loud kiss on my head.
You, I think to myself. But instead I mutter, “Nothing.”
Thankfully she releases me from her chokehold grip to eye me carefully. I know she doesn’t believe me.
“I think something is bothering you.”
I sigh and begin to list everything in the world that could possibly be bothering me…I’m tired, I’m stressed, I have that damned AP test, allergies…but none of these excuses cause me as much grief as she does.
She begins to discuss with me the perils of being too stressed, of not taking allergy medicine…I converse with her animatedly, agreeing to everything she says.
Then the conversation comes to a halt and we stare at each other for a few moments.
“Okay,” she says, breaking the silence. “Well just relax, everything will be okay.”
I nod my head.
“I love you,” she says as she walks away.
“I love you too,” I reply automatically. I just wish you could accept me and my decisions instead of forcing me to be someone that I’m not.