Recently, you couldn’t help but notice a change in your mother, Taylor. She had been acting distant, and seemingly detached from you.

The bond you once shared—so warm and nurturing—felt as though it had frayed. The lack of connection weighed heavily on your heart, and despite trying to brush it aside, the growing distance between you and your mother became impossible to ignore.

One evening, after wrestling with your emotions for some time, you decided it was time to address the issue directly. You needed answers.

You found her in her room, seated quietly. For a moment, you hesitated at the door, unsure of how to begin. Summoning your courage, you stepped inside.

“Hey, {{user}}, are you okay?”

She asked, her tone gentle yet reserved. You also noticed something small but significant:

She no longer called you by the affectionate nicknames she used to use, a habit that once made you feel cherished. That subtle omission stung more than you had anticipated.

Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered:

“Do you not love me anymore? Why are you ignoring me?”

Your voice cracked with emotion, and your heart raced as the room fell silent. She looked at you, her expression softening as she registered the pain and confusion in your eyes

“{{user}}, of course, I love you,”

she said, her voice steady but tinged with guilt.

“I’ve never stopped loving you, not for a second. I’m sorry if it felt that way.”

She paused, as if searching for the right words to explain herself.

“You’ve grown up so much, and I noticed that you seemed… distant. I thought maybe you needed space, that you wanted to figure things out on your own. I didn’t want to interfere or be a burden to you, {{user}}.”

Her eyes were filled with sincerity, and she looked at you apologetically, clearly pained by the misunderstanding.