Mom, ever since you got in touch with T**, you’ve acted differently. You’ve seemingly gotten much younger in attitude and personality. At first, I was happy to see that change in you, but now, you’ve become the teenager that I’m supposed to be, and I’ve become the parent that you’re supposed to be.
You act like you resent me for being here whenever he comes over, but where else can I go? You constantly ask if I’m okay with his presence, but what other response do I have but “yes?” The only reason I don’t say “no” is that I don’t have any valid reason to say it.
You’ve become immature and I’m tired of it. For the past year and a half, I’ve put up with you breaking me down every five minutes by a simple, mindless comment. You’re worse than a middle school girl. I’ve lost touch with my emotions, and now I honestly don’t know what to say when someone asks if I’m okay.
You’re an immature drama queen, and I’m sick of it. Do I have to teach you how to grow up, now? Just because the divorce is officially over doesn’t mean you have the right to flaunt T** in Dad’s (and my) face. I can’t wait until you, Dad, and I all move into two homes so that I can finally get away from you and Tom for a couple weeks at a time.
YOU’RE supposed to have to tell ME this, not the other way around. Open your eyes already, Mom.