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Our Relationship This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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     I know the truth of the phrase "A house divided cannot stand." Our home was falling apart fast before my mother and I made peace.

My mother and I would have all-out wars, and I was convinced that everything she said was stupid and meaningless. My mom knew differently, and tried to get that through my stubborn head. We fought all the time.

One evening, after another gruesome battle, my mother forced me to get in the car. I was reluctant to do anything the wicked, heartless witch wanted, but with a lot of tugging and pulling, she managed to stuff me into the passenger seat, the very last place I wanted to be.

The tension was so thick that it made it difficult to breathe. My mom shifted into first gear and with a screech, the car peeled out of the driveway, away from our battleground. No words were spoken for what seemed like an eternity. The only sounds were of the engine and the hard shifting my mom was forcing on it in her anger.

We drove the few miles to the Trinity Lake Dam where she stopped and told me to get out, in a slightly calmer voice. I did what she said because she was beginning to frighten me.

As I stepped out of the car, I realized how warm the night was for early May. I walked over to this petite woman I thought I was nothing like.

"Sit down," she said flatly. I sat next to her on a cement picnic bench that felt like an ice block. We sat in silence, listening to the soft breeze and gazing at the stars.

Finally she spoke in a soft, calm voice I didn't often hear, but when I did, it made me think of how happy and content I was as a child. Then she looked at me, and I saw tears in her eyes.

"I miss you," she said. Then she turned away and I could see the tears trickle down her cheeks. It was awhile before she spoke again.

"I am happy for your accomplishments, but at the same time I am jealous." I had no idea what she was talking about. Why would she be jealous? She wiped her tears with her thin hands and continued, "I had high hopes and plans for my future. There were many things I wanted to do before I got married and had kids. I wanted to go to college and have a good job and be able to support my family and give them a good home and happy life. I wanted to be successful." She looked down and started crying again.

"You are doing so well and I know you will accomplish everything I had wanted to, and more. I am so proud of you. I am going to accept the fact that even though I didn't do what I hoped to, I have done something great for the world - I gave the world you."

I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. I had so many things I wanted to say, but only a whimper escaped my lips. Then, as if some force hit me, I wrapped my arms around the woman who gave birth to me. I heard the words I had needed to hear, words I yearned for, words that would make everything alright.

"I love you," she whispered, but I heard them. I felt her arms wrap around me tightly.

Then I finally was able to speak. "I love you, too," I said between my sobs. Then we looked at each other and began to laugh. We looked so funny with mascara running down our cheeks.

"I am tired of always being mad and fighting with you. I want us to have a good relationship," I confessed.

She gave me another hug and whispered, "Me, too." Then she pulled away and told me to get in the car. It was time to go home.

That night we swallowed our pride and talked, and by doing so, we were able to tell each other how we really felt. My mom and I have a wonderful relationship now, and I even spend more time at home. We still have little arguments, but that is to be expected with even the strongest families.

I have discovered so much about my mom. She helps me through a lot of things that come with growing up, like boyfriends and getting along with friends. I have realized that she has been through all the stuff I have yet to go through. She pushes me to do my best, which I know will make me successful. I also have realized that I look a lot like her, and we share many qualities. Best of all, I know that she will always be there when my friends and others are not - when I will need her most.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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