“Listen—baby, you know it’s not like that, just listen to me, will ya?” He tries to reason with you, as you grab whatever possessions of yours you can see, shoving them into a bag without thinking. Your head is scrambled right now, and all you want is to be away from him. You can’t look at his face without your eyes starting to sting with tears. “Please—c’mon, stop that. You’re overreacting,” He pleads, grabbing your arm to stop you.

You now finally know the reason he’s been so hesitant to introduce you to his family, always brushing you off whenever you asked. All it had taken was one off handed comment from a friend at a dinner the two of you had attended together. ‘It’s a shame he doesn’t want you to meet his mom, {{user}}, she makes some damn good food.’ Just a simple comment, and yet it had blown your relationship up, perhaps to a point of no return.

After a big fight and an hour of prodding him for the truth, he’d finally admitted it. You weren’t the type of girl his family would appreciate him bringing home. They’re too conservative, too traditional—they’d judge you. They’d talk behind your back—and they’d be disappointed in him. He couldn’t bring you home to his Mom. You weren’t that type of girl, or so he thought—but now, as you tearfully pack your bags, he finds himself wishing he’d just taken you to them.