It's been six months. Six months since he left and we had to move out. Six months of my mom and I living in this apartment.

If I was bratty I would probably complain about the fact that it's not the nicest here. But, I understand that it's what my mom can do. I'm grateful for that.

She tries to make me think she's fine. I hear her crying every night though. Sometimes it's like she's talking to someone, sometimes she just cries and cries. I'm worried about her. I know she tries to shield me from it all, but I'm old enough for her to show me that she has feelings.

Obviously this can't be easy for her. I just wish I could be there for her. She has no one. She deserves someone. Even if it's me. But, she won't let me. I hate that she won't let me.

"Olive?" My mom knocked on my bedroom door.

I giggled at the dumb nickname, "Come in!"

She opened the door, looking almost nervous.

"I didn't even know you were home." I turned around in my desk chair, scanning my mother. "Is something wrong?"

She quickly shook her head, "No, honey." She said, but did not at all reassure me.

"Are you sure?"

She walked over to me, running her hand through my hair- she did that a lot, either to comfort me or herself. I was assuming she was comforting herself. Something was up.

"You're not being very reassuring" I teased, laughing.

Mom let out a nervous laugh, and bit her lip.

"Can you say something?" I asked, now just confused, and a little bit worried.

She sat down on the end of my bed, pressing her palms to her thighs and letting out a breath. "God. This is... Can I talk to you about something?" She was tilting her head up, almost as if she was trying to use gravity to keep her tears from falling.

"Sure..." I wasn't quite sure what to expect, I tried not to think the worst.

She patted the spot next to her.

I sat down, and she didn't quite make eye contact.

"Mom, what is it?" I turned so I was facing her, even though she didn't return the action.

She sighed loudly, her head still tilted up slightly. I watched as her eyes squeezed shut.

"I want to be... open... and... honest with you." She finally said.

"Is this about dad?" I asked immediately. Was she finally going to tell me that he's a dick? As if I don't already know. She probably knows I know. Why would she be so nervous about something so obvious?

That made her look at me. "What? No."

My eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Oh. Sorry, continue." I spoke quickly. Whoops. Maybe she didn't know that I know.

My mom looked away again. "I don't want you to look at me differently because of this." Her voice was soft. Scared.

"What? Mom you're scaring me."

"I don't mean to scare you honey."

"Then tell me what's going on." My voice came out a little harsher than I meant it to, but I needed to know what it was. She had me thinking it was something crazy like... I don't know that we had to-

"I'm gay."

What?

My mom has been married to a man for almost ten years. But, now she is telling me she is gay?

"Olivia, say something. Please. You're scaring me now." My mom was now stood up, pacing my bedroom.

"Mom, mom." She looked at me. "Stop freaking out." I took a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut. "Like... you're bisexual?"

She shook her head.

"A lesbian?" I don't know why the labels mattered in my head, maybe I was just wasting time to think of something to say that showed her it was ok.

"I'm not quite sure." She stopped, standing a few feet away from me. "I don't really know yet... but I've been thinking and. Honey, don't get me wrong your father is a great guy-"

"No he's not." I couldn't let her get away with saying that anymore.

"Olive..."

"Mom, I'm not clueless."

She sighed, "Please, not right now."

I pressed my lips together. At least she didn't completely disregard the fact that I know. A sudden thought popped into my head. I opened my mouth, but stopped myself short. I couldn't ask something like that. Filter. My mom always said I needed to learn how to filter my thoughts- some things shouldn't be said. That thought, probably shouldn't be said.

At my lack of response, mom continued. "Anyway, I just... I needed to be honest with you because-"

"Have you met someone?"

"Maybe if you would let me finish my sentence-"

"Sorry!"

My mom tilted her head in annoyance.

"Sorry, sorry! Ok, go ahead. Silent. Fly on the wall." I held my hands up in defense.

"I bumped into someone when I was out with Teddy a while back."

"A girl?" No duh, Olivia, why else would she be coming out to you. I bit my cheek. Dumb question, I guess.

My mom laughed- we both know I can never not interrupt. "Yes, a girl. And-"

"Ooohhh." I smiled at my mom. I could see that nervousness in her change. She knew I accepted her. Of course I accepted her- she's my mom.

"Like I was saying, we have been talking a lot. She's very nice. She asked me out on a date... but I wanted to talk to you..." My mom sat down next to me, looking at me with a more serious, motherly look on her face. "Are you okay with me seeing someone? Because if you still feel like it's too soon, I can wait until you are ready. It's totally up to you, honey."

I just looked at her for a second. Why wouldn't I be okay with her seeing someone? "Mom, it's your life. I want you to be happy." I know you weren't happy with dad. I almost said it, but I didn't. Filter. Damn, maybe I'm getting good at this.

"Of course but, I understand if you think it's too soon."

I had to say it. I had to say it. I had to- "I know you weren't happy with dad." No more filter. Whoops.

"Olivia..."

"No. Mom just... I'm not a little kid. I heard you guys argue. And just... the way he talked to you. Every night... I knew you weren't happy. I knew it was coming. And..." I laughed, "I am surprised you haven't already been seeing other people. I mean...you're young, and pretty. You should be able to enjoy yourself without having to worry about what I think."

My mom tilted her head. "You're very thoughtful. But me dating someone will impact you. As a mother, it is something I have to think about. Whether it's just a first date or if it's a committed relationship... it will have an impact on you."

"I'm ok with it, really."

"I can give you some time to think..."

"Mom, I don't need to think about it."

"You're positive?"

"Yup." I was all for my mom going out and enjoying herself. She's only twenty-nine. Sometimes I feel bad. What other 29 year old has a teenager they have to worry about? I know I have no control over it, but sometimes I wish my mom could let loose a little more. Especially recently, she's been hanging out with Teddy, but she's always home by 10 to say goodnight and make sure I am ready for school in the morning. She says it's fine, but that doesn't stop me from feeling bad sometimes.

Mom held her arms out, and I hugged her tightly.

My mom just came out to me. I feel like usually that is the total opposite way for people.

"I love you." My moms voice was quiet. She was crying.

I squeezed a little tighter, "I love you too, Mom."

She just held on to me.

"Don't cry." I said quietly.

She then pulled away, rubbing her eyes. "Sorry I just... Thank you." She smiled at me.

I smiled back, "I don't think of you any differently, Mom."

"I know, I know." She whispered, rubbing her hands on her black jeans.