If even the spell on the pig's nose doesn't require a man to crack, then what's the use of love or marriage or even a man?
I love the way I am.
People say that parents are the ones who love them the most. When their mother died, they would pretend to be sad and say, "The one who loved me the most in the world has gone."
So what if "the person in the world who loves me the most doesn't love me"?
She hates me so much.
She is the daughter she cherishes in the palm of her hand, the secret she hides in the basement. She was the bride-to-be that she had hoped and worked hard to educate, and she was the pig's nose that she was eager to get rid of.
She said, it's not your face.
She said, you are not you.
She said, you are somebody else insider just waiting to come out.
We can't tolerate someone we like telling ourselves that your eyes are too small and your skin is bad You're not tall enough, why should we tolerate our mothers telling ourselves you're not the kid I want?
The person I love the most in the world is gone.
Because, my mother taught me, I don't even love myself anymore.
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