"Well, I wanted to improve myself slowly, so as a first step, I searched up how to groom myself and what kind of clothes would make a man presentable on the internet a little earlier, and you can see the result of that improvement." My mother looked at my neat and clean appearance, and nodded her head as if she agreed with my improvement.

"And then I decided to follow the advice you gave me a long time ago to look at someone when they speak, and talk to them clearly in a loud and crisp voice." I said some bullshit that she could or could not have said.

Even if she didn't say it, I would've just said that it was too long ago and she forgot. But my mother nodded her head once again with appreciation in her eyes, as if she was glad I kept the words she said and was finally following them.

"And the last step I took today to improve myself, was to be more open and honest with my thoughts and not hold them in anymore like I used to instead because I was afraid of how everyone would judge me...Instead of acting like a gloomy dead beat; so that no one bothered with me, I wanted to show off who I actually am and my true personality, which I've been keeping under wraps for a while now." I acted as if this was my actual personality, and the me she saw before was simply a version of me that's going through an edgy pubescent phase.

My mom also nodded her head and smiled in happiness to see that her son had such a bright personality, instead of being the cold and distant person he was before.

It seems that this was the 'improvement' that impacted her the most, as it allowed her to get closer to her son like she wanted and gave her more opportunities for mother-son moments, which she was clearly craving.

"And do you remember when you entered my room and saw me sitting on the bed, when I'm usually sleeping at that time?" I asked.

"I do. I remembered it clearly since you were looking at me in a daze at that time."

A daze? More like I was eyeing up every corner of your body and wondering how such a perfect specimen of a human existed.

"At that time, I was actually thinking about how coldly I treated you in the past and didn't have the courage to look at you...Even earlier, when I first opened up to you, I thought that you wouldn't forget about my past self and wouldn't show me the same affection you showed me back in the past, after getting rejected by me so many time..." I said in a melancholic manner, and my mother looked at me with teary eyes and shook her head, as if she were telling me that none of that was true and she'd love me no matter what I did or became.

"...But after seeing how caring and supportive you are with me even now, it made all those worries of mine get washed away into the dumps, and replaced them with feelings of gratitude for having such an amazing mother who never left me alone even when I was acting like such a jerk to her...A mother who continued to support whatever I did, even though she was the one who got hurt along the way...A mother that I genuinely don't deserve..."

I started tearing up by the end, but this time it wasn't genuine tears; and were fake tears I made by stimulating my tear glands to build up my forgiveness act.

My mother panicked when she saw me tearing up and went forward to hug me and say some words of consolation. But just as her arms were about to wrap around mine, she suddenly pulled back and had an expression as if she didn't know what to do and was struggling to keep herself from doing something.

She then looked at me with conflict in her eyes and said, while having an anxious look on her face

"Oh Kafi~ You don't know how much I want to hug you and comfort you right now and make sure my baby boy is okay...Just look at my shaking hands. They can't wait to grab you and push you into my bossom to comfort your pitiful self..."

You want to shove my face into the mega-sized honkers you have?! Let's freaking go!

But what's with the hold up? Why aren't you shoving me 6 inches deep into your flesh and instead standing there with a conflicted look on your face, like you're struggling to make a decision?

"...But because you hate hugs from me and even go as far as to push me away when I try to hug you, I'll try my best to hold myself back when I actually really want to hug you so much and tell you how much of a good boy you are, and how proud mommy is because of your improvement." My mother explained why she hadn't hugged me yet with a sad look on her face, as if the thing she wanted the most in the world was to hug her precious son.

Meanwhile, I had a twisted look on my face that could even scare a ghost because of how pissed off I was at my previous self because of what he had done.