Okay, 2nd try...BM: Well, I managed to call her a few times in the end. I really wasn't much of an interesting guy, but I tried my best. It always started out with some light topics and then it would quickly reach a point where nobody had anything to say.
BM: It's just that everytime I called it felt like I was intruding into her personal time. Every word I uttered felt like the dull thud of clumps of dirt thrown on my coffin. I felt like I was making her angrier with every call.
BM: Anyway, things weren't going anywhere. Our phone conversations were distancing us more than anything and she persistently refused to see me in person. 
BM: Not that I blame her, though. I was truly my mother's boy and wouldn't last 10 seconds on my own. Curfews and restriction on mobility really limited my own ability to seek her out. Not that life at that point made things any easier... major exams were coming closer and extensive preperations had to be taken care of to ensure a brighter future (or so my parents told me).(To be continued...)
1 comment:
Dear God... it's an improvement from last week but mum's hand in Pic 4 really looks... deformed and creepy (not that that makes it untrue).
Ah well...
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