My mom got married at twenty-four. I'm twenty-three and still reply WOW! to sexts. I'm unfamiliar with the touches of a long-term lover. I have three years to have children if I want to be like her in more than looks. She was twenty-seven when my older brother was born. Math only matters when I'm comparing.
My mom called me a prettier version of herself and I wept about being another mirror for her to cry in front of. We reflect hunger and loveliness between the times we appreciate each other.
I asked her how she knew dad was the love of her life. I catch her with these questions when we pull into our garage. Before we could return to our standard separation she explained that she had a feeling the moment she met him. I don't know that feeling but they have four kids and a mortgage and no retirement to look forward to.
The recession happened while I chased fairies at recess. I was watching Grease in our family room when my dad told us he'd lost his job.
I beat my mom when it comes to debt. Student loans remind me why I don't care for math. My mom says I should be proud that I invested in myself but all I see are the opportunities I can't afford and the unpaid hours I'm wasting trying to be a writer.
My mom married at twenty-four because she loved someone and wanted to start a family. I'm twenty-three and typing this in my notes app because it's a slow day in the desert and I miss her.
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