No thank you, wench. I learned not to judge people to harshly or to quickly. There are two sides to everything. And sometimes even more than two sides! But there is a break from such perfect ideology here. Just for you, my dear sweet birth giver. I don't want to bother with you. I don't need to deal with you. While my hand is usually guided by the calm and effortless motions of fair judgment I will blind my self worth here. Perhaps it was because I couldn't exactly voice my opinion. Having been in diapers and all? But that's okay. I'm sure I did a well enough job at wailing my lungs out. While you bellowed at my Father. While you two tried to beat each other into the ground. I bet it was a grand spectacle. Enough for all the homeless fools to stagger out of their drunken state for the daily spouse match-off. Who would win? Who would lose?
Who cares!? Just show us some blood!
So no thank you, Mrs. Hernandez. You didn't merely leave. You changed the course of my fate. Damned me to lurking in the underbelly of civil court. Banished me to discovering whom exactly wept in the shadows of lost siblings. This isn't necessary – you aren't necessary. I should have never sought you out. Never cracked open this particular can of worms. If everyone is given a freebie for their lack of judgment than you are my mine. I take back all we ever discussed among the blood lusty mosquitoes. Forget the black tarp cover up for our midnight tropic heart to heart over the coconut sips. I never shared with you exactly why I grew hair this long. You don't know Sarah – don't deserve to. So erase that as well. There was never a contemplation to see what life was like with you. Never,never. And another thing. I will always speak Spanish the way I do.
You don't like how I sound like a tourist?
Deal with it!
No thank you, Jajaria. I have lapsed for the final time. You have gone beyond that boundary. At least, for me. I will not ponder your side of this story. Or any story. You made your choice, all those years ago, to choose her over me. Now it's my choice! I guess I am my mother's son, after all, aren't I? Because I am leaving. Don't call me, don't text me, and don't IM me. There's no use. I choose you over her. Maybe now you'll get it. This is the end, for both you and me.
No thank you, Mother Dearest, you don't have to be my mother. You never were anyway
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