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“Ask me again. Ask me how I'm doing. Just ask. I'll tell. But he doesn't ask. Instead, he says he's proud of me and stands up, eyes lingering on the bathroom door for a second as the water turns off. He kisses the top of my head. "What did I ever do to deserve such a perfect daughter?" My chest deflates. I swallow my words. I hide them deep behind my ribs, tucked neatly by my heart, with all the other words I keep.” — Erin Stewart
Ask me again.
Ask me how I'm doing.
Just ask.
I'll tell.
But he doesn't ask. Instead, he says he's proud of me and stands up, eyes lingering on the bathroom door for a second as the water turns off.
He kisses the top of my head. "What did I ever do to deserve such a perfect daughter?"
My chest deflates. I swallow my words.
I hide them deep behind my ribs, tucked neatly by my heart, with all the other words I keep.