sometimes I think of myself as pathetic, but id never call 7 year old me waiting for my mom to come watch my recital pathetic.
I wouldn’t call the 12 year old in me that would watch out in the crowd for you on the night of her play pathetic
what’s pathetic is that I spent years waiting for you, looking for your face in the crowds of people
at my choir concerts when all my friends would point out who’s there to watch them, i’d see their parents bring them flowers and tell them how proud they are
and i come home to a mom who’s already asleep, someone who won’t remember in the morning that i had a concert.
what’s pathetic is how long it took me to notice that it’s nothing to do with me but everything to do with you