Do you even love me? What does it mean for you to love me? I am of your flesh. You created me with half of your dna. That doesn’t mean you have to love me though. I can tell you don’t. I don’t expect you to anyway, it’s ok. I’m a fifteen year old with an attitude, and I am kind of a slob. It makes sense why you would chose that man you’ve known for six months now over me. He likely tells better jokes, and he makes you happy. I remind you of obligation, the mouth you have to feed and the never ending list of responsibilities you have to me. Is that why you chose to put a potential relationship in front of my well -being? Do you know what it is like to walk the halls of a new high school every year of high school? I do. Its lonely. Because you had to see where that relationship would take you. I’m really not that good at any one thing. I talk too much, and my grades are average, if not below average. I could see why you wouldn’t believe me when I told you your fourth husband touched me. He told you he didn’t mean to make me uncomfortable. Can you believe that? Uncomfortable. Now I’m promiscuous and have an eating disorder. Anorexia. I barely graduate high school because I stay out passed curfew. I know I’m a handful. A parental nightmare. I think I can see how you wouldn’t love me.