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.