Would you make me a coffee?
Smoke a cigarette with me?
I'll treat you to some food,
Then let's go for a drink.
"You seem happier", you say,
And I really do!
"I am happier", I say,
And I wish I could tell you due to who.
Remember when I was sixteen?
I got my first boyfriend
You told me how proud and relieved you felt
That I turned out to be "normal".
I later told you that I was never happy.
And you just shook your head.
"Wasn't he cute?" and "I'd love to be his mother in law!"
And you'd laugh and I'd laugh with you.
Then you'd ask "what's the matter?
We were laughing just now."
And I just shook my head.
"I'll love my children to death.
Even if they turn out to be murderers,
Or thieves, or even gay!"
Doesn't sound very loving, does it?
"I just don't understand it. I don't like it.
I want you to be normal, so you can be happy."
And what if those two clash?
Should I be normal or happy?
Because I don't think I'll ever be happy
Being normal, like you.
So, come sit with me, I'll make the coffee.
We'll laugh and we'll gossip.
I'll tell you that I love you and you'll tell me that you love me too.
And then you'll say "You seem happier!"
Second work of yours I've read and I can already tell you're structuring is of my favored kind - to start, develop so we can understand your scenery, then at the end we're back at the start, though now understanding the moment. I love it.