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This reminds me of this one time in high school when my mom found two empty 40s of Old E stashed in my closet. I’m not sure exactly why I had hidden them there, but I do remember they’d been in there for months and I had forgotten all about them.
Anyways, I come home from school and walk into my room to find the two bottles sitting on my bed with a hand-written note from my mom that said, “Kate, if you’re going to drink, don’t drink this shit. Love, Mom.”
Best. EVER.
I ride the bus a lot, and spend a lot of time in public spaces. You ever see the abusive parent? Hitting their children, humiliating them, hurling profanities?
And you think to yourself, that child doesn’t stand a chance. Even if the kid has the potential to be well-adjusted, there’s no way they’ll survive a childhood with that parent.
These notes are like the opposite of that dynamic.
“you-are-gay”