Part 1: I Shouldn't Have Slammed The Door, But I Did.

The loud hard slam was a bit more than I expected.

I guess my dad was right when he said I let my anger get the best of me,

but that's not the problem here.

What stood behind that loud hard slam, feeling the gust of air on her face from my bedroom door,

was my mom.

Who was just as angry and upset.

We were arguing, once again, about a stupid comment I made

at dinner about Italian gelato looking like my dog's poop.

My mom was a cotillion teacher and conversations like that

are not meant for the dinner table in her eyes,

but I was just trying to be funny.

You see it started as a small fight, it always does

but this time I didn't realize the emotions that would churn up

inside me. Emotions that had been brewing slowly deep inside.

My anger increased and started raging,

as did the tone of my voice, I was fed up.

I don't like being told what I can and cannot say,

especially within the walls of my own house.

I wanted to stand up for myself because my comment was light-hearted

and now here we were, harsh word after harsh word,

me versus my mom, what's new?

My dog sat in the corner, frightened, with her tail in-between her legs.

Our screaming voices echoed throughout my house.

Then it happened, the waterworks

she always does this.

In her defense, I use my words well.

I like to get a reaction out of people.

My dad also tells me I am too mean to my mom when we argue,

but what he doesn't understand is that our fights are nothing

other than a battle of words until one of us surrenders.

And I don't surrender, she taught me that.

However, out of the two of us, I have the thicker shell

and when I see her cry it makes me mad that she is so sensitive.

So instead of continuing to yell, I slammed my door, ending the harshness

I knew would soon come, creating the perfect escape for myself.

However, the silence of my room wasn't enjoyable

when I knew she was on the other side, hurt and speechless

about the words I had just thrown her way.

I don't want to hurt her feelings but she needs to lay off a little.

The clock on my shelf ticked slowly

Deeeep breaths

I stood there anxious by all the emotions running through my body

and even though I felt as if I had won this fight,

something in me didn't feel quite right.

I love my mom so much

She didn't deserve a slammed door to the face,

and all I could picture was her

on the other side of my door,

with watering pupils

and wet streams, left by the tears.

Upset and battered by the things that were said

Like when I told her I hated being the daughter of a cotillion teacher,

something she was very proud of being.

Now here,

lies a door

between letting me be who I want to be

and her control,

while I'm happy that I am on the other side

I feel sad,

like a little kid who just wants to be comforted by their mom.

I shouldn't have slammed the door, but I did.

Part 2: I'm Going Through A Breakup and I Want To Be Left Alone

I'm okay with being sad

and to tell you the truth,

I'm sick and tired

of being told to get over it.

My parents said

I should get out of my room more.

Piece myself back together by

meeting new people

creating new habits.

They worried

I was depressed and

that I would become blind

again, just to relieve my pain

with the comfort from the same body

that hurt me in the first place.

Constantly checking up on me

to make me feel guilty

for letting myself

take the time that I need.

And for hell's sake

what is SO wrong

with letting myself be sad?

I think the people who ignore their emotions,

instead of embracing them,

end up

forever hung up

on the past that they no longer have control of.

But right now

I have the control.

So why would I waste it?

When I owe myself the time

to grieve this loss.

They wouldn't ever understand anyways.

Married by twenty,

dating since high school

My parents don't even know what heartbreak feels like.

I, I know heartbreak.

Heartbreak is laying over your toilet bowl

feeling sick to your stomach because you just found out

the boy you have loved for four years

had cheated on you with a co-worker

you didn't even know he had.

Heartbreak is crawling in a ball

in your bed holding back tears

because you're in a dorm room that you share with someone else

and you don't want her to know

that you're feeling defeated.

My parents claim to know

that breakups need time

but somewhere along the way

they put a time frame on that time.

While I understand they are protective

and worried about me

going through a hard time

at a new school hundreds of miles away from them,

I still ask that my time

be given some respect.

Because four years

gives a lot to a person

and I'm only a couple months out.

I know they worry

that I love him too much

but

what they don't know is that

I love myself more.

And I got this.

*******Italics and indentions are for thoughts! The "Constantly checking up on me, to make me feel guilty, for letting myself, take the time that I need" is written that way to show a progression. I also like my lines and the spacing because of the way I read it*****