Can you write my love story?

I have never had a party. My birthdays are usually a dismal affair. A reminder of a life that I have been meaning to forget. But not this year. I decided to throw myself a party. Loud music was echoing through the house, food and drinks were overflowing. My friends came to celebrate with me. It was loud. It was chaotic. We danced and drank, laughed and jumped. I didn't care if the neighbors complained or if the police came over. It was my party, my rules. I partied until the sun was almost up, oblivious that my phone had been ringing for the ninth time. I woke up feeling my head splitting. My hangover was bad, which was expected with how much I drank last night. There were voices downstairs that I couldn't make out of, but I assumed it was just my friends who weren't able to go home last night. I was going back to sleep when suddenly the door flew open. "Ryan Smith!" The voice sent me upright. It was my mom. "Is this how you have been celebrating your birthday for the past six years?" she said, eyeing me closely. Yeah, I told myself, six long and painful years. "What are you doing here mom?" I finally managed to say. I got out of bed and picked up my clothes on the floor. I heard her draw a long breath, "I came to pick you up." "What?" "You heard me, I'm taking you home." she reached for my closet and started taking my clothes. "You can't do that" I yelled. She looked back at me, "Of course I can, I'm your mother.'' I snorted, "I can take care of myself. I have been doing that for the past six years." " Take care? Is this how you take care of yourself? You're just wasting away. You're not in school, you're not paying your rent. Where have you been taking the money I'm sending you?" I didn't answer. "I'm not going," I stated. She put on the bag that she'd been holding and looked at me straight in the eye. "I have given you a lot of chances already, but this time, not anymore. You're going home and that's final." and with that she left the room. I sat on the bed, feeling the world crashing down on me. Just last night I was enjoying my freedom, and now this. I can't go back to that place. I won't go back. I followed my mom downstairs where I saw her boyfriend talking to my best friend, Joe. "Mom," I called after her, "you can't do this, you can't ruin my life again. " The words stung. I knew it, for when she looked back at me again there was a hint of pain in her eyes. "3 months, if you still want to leave, I'll let you leave, but you're staying with us for three months." I just stared at her, not sure about what else to say. She got into the car, followed by her boyfriend. I knew her decision was final, that there was nothing I could do to change her mind. "Just go with her," Joe said behind me. "I guess it's also time for you to come home." So, with heavy steps, I followed them in the car. When the engine started, the reality of what lies ahead started to dawn on me. There was no turning back now. I'm really going back to that place, the place I hated so much. I rested my head on the seat and closed my eyes, suddenly feeling tired, and as I did, all the memories that I'd been trying to forget became clearer in my mind, and I was brought back to the time when everything was as perfect as it could be.