My mother is standing outside my door and telling me she loves me.

I want to believe her. I want to believe her so bad. I want it to be true this time. I want to open the door and hold onto her and scream and cry.

And the money won’t matter, and the drugs won’t matter, and I can finally have a real mom, someone who loves me and listens to me. A mom who likes my hobbies and my hair. A mom who never tells me how fat I am, a mom who doesn’t bring me women’s clothes.

My mother is standing outside my door and saying she’s sorry for whatever it was she did that made me so mad and I need to get over it before I end up bitter and old.

My door is unlocked.