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i know my love should be celebrated but you tolerate it.
taylor swift, 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒕
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Gwen Rosales never asked to be a demigod. Or born, for that matter. Or adopted at birth. Or... A whole lot of things, really.
Singled out her whole life and called stupid or annoying? No thanks. Sent to five different schools before she hit eighth grade? Yeah, no. Asked why her last name was "Rosales" when she was white? Expected, but still not appreciated.
She knew it wasn't her fault. Besides, she loved her parents, who handled every incident and subsequent expulsion from school with grace. They never thought she was stupid or too much to handle― she was their darling little girl.
That was all fine and dandy, but they didn't get it. They didn't see the winged horse in the sky turn into a far-off airplane. They didn't see that the old man with thick, Coke-bottle glasses had one eye instead of two. But just when Gwen expected them to ask questions, they kept their mouths shut. And, honestly? That was worse than being interrogated.
Her parents didn't hide her past from her, either. They couldn't have kids, she didn't have a home, and with some help from the adoption agency, the Rosales family came together. And yet, Gwen could never get in touch with her biological parents.
