All because of us

13

Lexie POV:

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a mother that would actually care about your well being other than the picture perfect family she portrays to have.

It's Thursday and it's been exactly three days since we came back from Georgia.

I just got off the phone with my mother and low and behold all she called me for was to remind me again about the brunch gala coming up in two weeks.

Not how are you or I miss you or how are your studies. Just remember to dress nice and continue working out, no one wants to see a slob of a college student.

Sweetie you need to workout I saw a picture of you the other day and I think you've gained a bit since I saw you last.

My chest feels heavy, my head is pounding immensely with the migraine I have. It's been a long week, with school, tests and working back to back—now with my mom constantly badgering me and making me feel less than has me in my feelings and honestly I just want to be home and do absolutely nothing.

Which is exactly what I'm going to do. Fuck having twenty more minutes left in this class. I put my notebook and laptop inside my bag and rise from my chair, ignoring the stares of students around me and walk out the class.

The cold air instantly hits my face and I seemingly forgot that the weather is dropping since we're in fall. Living in north Florida is completely different than being raised in south Florida. You experience practically ever weather change here and I absolutely love it.

The sudden breeze makes my unruly hair flap around as I walk to the parking lot trying to find my car. It's not hard to find since it sticks out being a bright color red.

Unlocking my car, I open the door and throw my bag on top of the passenger side finally happy to be on the way home. Taking a deep breath in and slowly letting it out multiple times until I reach my apartment building.

Living with anxiety and depression is fucking hard. Living with the constant need to please people is fucking miserable. I can't tell anyone anything because all they see is a rich kid complaining with mommy issues.

So I keep it to myself, it's the only thing to do. Yasmine knows, of course she knows. She knows my moms antics, the way I let myself crumble to a dark ibis and no one realizing I'm struggling to keep afloat.

I change my clothes into sweats and lay down on the couch where I don't plan to leave for the next three days.

I'll send my homework in and all my assignments for tomorrow. Luckily, my teachers don't require for you to be in class. I got lucky this semester.

"Come here." Yasmine says opening her arms for me to fall right into. I gracefully do, happy to have my best friend. No matter the situation, I know I can confine in her. She doesn't pry or ask questions. She holds me and plays with my hair giving me exactly what I need.

The reoccurring thoughts in my head don't disappear. When will I ever be enough? When will my mom see I'm perfect the way I am?

I'm 120 pounds, ten each is my breasts and the rest is to blame on my five ten height. But of course she doesn't understand. She's short and petite. She thinks I'm surviving off of instant noodles and Starbucks everyday like most college kids. But I'm not—at least not everyday.

I wish it was different. I was I can go back to four years ago where everything was different and she was happy...

But even with my wishful thinking, I know it'll never be the same. No amount of time, money or children you decide to have to fix your marriage will ever be the same.