Uncertainty - Stanford Pines x Reader (female)

Chapter 37

Parents. They shape us, guide us, mold us into the people we become. We begin life, cradled in their arms, utterly dependent on their care. And yet, as we grow, we push away, seeking independence, often forgetting the magnitude of their influence on us.

My mother, she was the first to hold me, my very first touchpoint to the world. She watched me grow, guided me through my first bumbling steps, wiped away my tears. In many ways, she saw me more clearly than I saw myself.

My parents weren't perfect. Like every parent, they made mistakes, had their shortcomings. But they also gave me everything they could. Their love, their time, their support, even when I was too pigheaded to appreciate it.

As I sat there, my phone pressed to my ear, these memories flooded my mind. Their faces, their laughter, the warmth of their presence I had often before taken for granted.

The sound of my mother's voice on the other end of the line grounded me. I could almost envision her, her kind eyes, the gentle smile on her lips. I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear her, to feel that familiar comfort.

"Y/N.", she started, her voice gentle yet clear, "Is everything alright? You rarely call."

The mere question, spoken with such genuine concern, almost cracked my composure. I swallowed, gripping the phone harder, as if clutching on to a lifeline.
"Mom... I need to ask you something."
"What is it, dear?" Her voice was softer now, a touch of worry seeping in.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but bringing them into existence felt like a monumental task.

"Mom, what if...", I began, hesitating. "What if you had to choose between two people, two paths... and each choice meant sacrificing something important?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end, then her voice, steady and reassuring.

"Oh, honey.", she sighed, "Life is full of these choices. Every path we take comes with a sacrifice, a loss of what could have been. It's part of growing, of finding our way."
She paused, then asked gently, "Is this about someone? Are you in love?"

I couldn't stop the bitter laugh that escaped me. "In love...", I repeated, the words heavy on my tongue. "It's not that simple, I think."

There was a moment again, and I could almost hear her thinking, processing my words. Then she spoke, her voice measured. "Love is complicated, Y/N. It's messy, it's painful. But it's also the most beautiful thing in the world."

I felt tears pricking at my eyes, her words like a dull knife in my chest. How could something so beautiful hurt this much?

"What if—", I choked out, my voice thick with emotion, "What if loving one person means losing another? How do you choose? How do you know it's the right choice?"

Her soft laugh echoed over the line, warm and familiar. "Oh, my darling. If life was just about making the right choices, it would be very boring."

She paused, then continued, her voice serious now. "There's no clear-cut answer. Love isn't a math problem with a definite solution. You follow your heart, your intuition, your gut. And sometimes, even that won't shield you from pain or regret."

I closed my eyes, her words sinking in like hot knives into my skin. "It hurts, mom.", I whispered, the dam breaking. "It hurts so much. And I'm scared. I don't know what to do."

Her voice was a gentle murmur, soothing me even across the miles. "That's part of the process, sweetheart... Hurt is a part of loving deeply. It shows you care, it means the feelings are real."

She let me sob silently for a moment, her words wrapping around me like a warm blanket. "But you're strong.", she reminded me, her voice steely. "You've always been. No matter what choice you make, you will get through this. And you won't be alone. You never are."