#got the flu so I couldn't watch the movie on Sunday

[whatandroidsdreamof]

The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress

Until I wrap myself inside your arms, I cannot rest

The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound

I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground

[asphodellic]

loss is such a strange thing.

i spent a lot of my teenage years and my adulthood wishing my mom would just disappear. she'd yell at me or cuss me out or call me fat or tell me i was nothing, and i just wished she would be gone. i thought about how much happier and better my life would be without her.

i remember my first year of college, i got really sick. the flu was going around because of all the new germs, and everyone in my freshman dorm got hit hard. i remember walking to work in a fog, and i remember my boss asking me if i was okay and saying yes. then i remember her giving me a task, and i couldn't understand what she was saying because i was so out of it. so she sent me to the health center, and i had a 103 fever. it was going down, so they sent me back to my dorm. i called my mom to tell her i had the flu, and she told me it was my fault because i didn't wash my hands enough. my roommate's mom sent her a big care package. my friend's mom came to the school to bring him stuff. i just dealt with it on my own until i was better.

that's been my whole life, pretty much. dealing with stuff on my own until it got better. i was never coddled or doted on. i had food and shelter and stuff for school, and that was supposed to be good enough. i got hit and screamed at, and no matter how good i did in school or how low under the radar i tried to stay, it was never good enough.

it got worse when she got sick. then it was death threats and constant screaming, and when i got out of her house, it felt so good to be able to ignore her. to not return her calls. to tell my dad no when he asked if i wanted to talk to her. it felt like i finally had some control over things.

but there was a part of me that always wanted things to get better. that would hope that maybe one day she'd become the mother i always wanted. the one i saw glimpses of sometimes when we would have rare good days together. when we'd sit on my parents' bed and watch pretty woman or ghost or whatever romantic 80s/90s movie was on tbs that sunday night. those nights were like getting a glimpse of what it could be like.

it never lasted, though. monday would come, and it would be right back to the yelling and name calling.

i wanted her gone for so long. and now she is.

i didn't feel that much when i found out she was dying. i was shocked, i guess, because she always seemed like a monolith. like something that was unshakeable. i cried a little at the memorial, when my brother spoke because it felt more real then. i cried when song lyrics reminded me of her.

tonight, i wanted to watch pretty woman because it's always been a comfort movie for me, and this week has been pretty rough. these last several months have been pretty rough. and i guess i didn't realize how much of that movie is wound up in feelings about my mom now. i didn't realize how much it was going to make me think about her.

i cried through the last hour or so of it, just missing her. missing the good times. missing that little glimmer of hope that maybe one day things would be okay. they never really were okay, and now i guess they never will be.