Coffee shop mom

‘What kind of story do you want to talk about..?’ Working in a coffee shop doesn’t mean I didn’t really love myself I also tried to raise the child as hard as my child, but it is not my child.. Then, at some point, the child and I spent more time together. It seemed like it was going. If only I disappeared.. Everyone was happy…. If I was quiet.. For the one who would become a wonderful husband who waited for his wife.. I left ‘Why did my son come to visit me?’ Nostalgia for a real mother, and a place where you want to lean on unstable youth