Your Mother Knows Best

I met your mother just once and she was the type of a woman who will love whom you love.

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Your mother knows that it is me who came with you one evening and she insisted that I come inside the house for she doesn't want me to sit in that awkward seat in the garden. She called you and asked if I am with you, mentioning my name.

Your mother knows that I was the one responsible for throwing your last surprise party.

Your mother knows, despite the lack of face-to-face time, how I pulled everyone together. She knows how I befriended your siblings when they barely knew that I even existed.

You didn't tell her but she can tell during the time that we are already falling apart.

We drifted ways but your mother knows that behind the platonic one hundred sixty text characters that I virtually sent you, that was me, juvenile but already had a concrete concept of what love is. And she knows that I have loved you in my tender years that little did you know it was real - at least for me.

Because your mother may not know the rest, but she knew at least once when it was still me, you had me at my best.