when i told Her i was a boy She wasn't even mad. She had spent so much time convincing me i was this worthless thing, and when i told Her, She told me it was ok. She cradled me in Her arms while i cried, and within them i felt a little less sick from the house. She told me She was sorry. dear God, She told me it was okay. that i was still Her child. and i do not know why.

sometimes i wish she was really afraid of me. i think that, somehow, would be better than this.