You Only Have One

I remember my first date. We were going to go see a film, something he really wanted to see. My mum bought me an adorable shirt to wear and she consulted me on how to do my hair and what shoes to wear. She calmed me down a lot, as I was a nervous wreck. My mum couldn't see me off though: she had to work. She tried not to cry. I tried to cry. When she left, I cried my eyes out. I did my make-up alone. I got my handbag together alone. I waited for him to come alone. It was the worse feeling in the world.
Then I remembered a girl in my school lost her mum to cancer a year and a half ago.
I bet she cried when her mum wasn't there for her first date. I bet she cried  when her mum wasn't there when she was accepted into the art programme. I bet she cried on every holiday and birthday. I bet she cried when someone talked badly of their  mum in front of her.
I don't know where I would be without my mum. I don't know how my mum goes on without her's. And I can't understand people who talk terrible of their mum when their is just no reason too.
After all, you only have one mum.


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