That’s how we are, we mexicanas, puro coraje y pasion. That’s what we’re made of…that’s us. We love like we hate. Backward and forward, past, present, and future. With our heart and soul and our tripas, too
She was the kind of girlfriend god gives you young, so you’ll know loss for the rest of your life.
I genuinely resent how ‘respecting parents’ often translates into allowing yourself to be an emotional (or even physical) punching bag, doormat or vessel for them to relentlessly project their idealized image of the perfect child, which often proves detrimental and inhibiting. Fuck that shit.