The Day of Your Beginning and My End

The Day of Your Mother’s Birthday

I look at the calendar still in a sleep comatose finally. There’s been virtual apartment shopping, six days working, and general push myself past my limit I’ve been consciously aware of.

Four days, three, two, and one day left. It’s her birthday and I feel it with a sense of dread and how am I supposed to do this? Send a text and just say simply, happy birthday? Call her up and have the threat to be taken into her whirlwind of ‘how dare you keep boundaries up around me?!’

There’s this thing she does where she’s highly perceptive on the phone. I guess there are a lot of tells to where we are when my brother and I call. She’s the only person where a conversation goes like this:

“Where are you right now?”

“In the car.”

“No, you’re at home because the hardwood floors echo.”

She recently did this one of the last times I talked. I snorted with laughter and shook my head. I’ve never tried to decipher where people are, as long as I can hear them that works for me. But, she wants to know where we’re going, whether the people we’re with are around or not.

The Bullshit Favorites System

She was an only child so she didn’t quite know how to handle my brother and I. My brother came from a previous marriage where she really fell for this guy. My father she married later. She’s told me, more times than I can count, that he was married out of convenance.

My brother needed a father, and my father wanted a child. Hence… me. I don’t like to tell of my sibling and I having different fathers because then people assume we aren’t close. Because we aren’t ‘full blood,’ like that shit matters or something.

My brother was told since I could remember that he was the favorite. He still ‘is’ since she visits where we live and avoids going to my city. He can take that position all day and night since he was allowed to leave. I wasn’t and was controlled for twenty five years.

The only escape I had was with being in a relationship. We didn’t do play dates and friendships were dismal to none. Being homeschooled didn’t help the equation, but it did open me up to volunteer work.

The Male Species is A Means to An End

My Ma told me as long as the guy pays for everything, and takes care of you, just wind up with them. She hopped from one relationship to another searching adamantly for love. There are stories of breaking up with one boyfriend and then plundering all his brothers and friends before leaving the relationship smoldering.

“You’ll become like me, and be able to use men to get whatever you want from them. It’s just a matter of time.”

There’s a pride in her voice of how she was with men. The fact she got what she wanted, and they would provide it. Or, she’d eventually use up his entire social circle.

Maybe I am like her? I wonder this sometimes, yet what I want is what they want. My needs right now are switching my three years of being in an asexual relationship and discovering touch again.

My Ma doesn’t know I have guy friends, she wouldn’t believe it was possible. She’d be disappointed that I consistently flip flop dinner and buying things with them.

She’d want me to leverage if I ever did get physical with them. She’d want me back in a relationship even though I love how I am now. Whenever I’ve traveled by myself she’s thought I’m exponentially lonely. Which, my favorite times in my life are being that lone female traveler. It’s the most amazing feeling ever.

Men are something to be used and tossed away like Kleenex. Not something where you can foster something where they depend on you, you depend on them, yet it isn’t a relationship. I’m not getting enough return for my investment she’d say or think. But, I am, because I like discovering about their lives.

One of my friends always calls me up when things get crazy for him. I talk him down from a ledge since he can get worked up easily. When we finish talking he’s calmer, more logic based. Others also rely on me as a sounding board but it doesn’t bother me to do so.

You wouldn’t be in my life if I didn’t want you in it.

The Twisted Love You Weave

There are elements that I admire about her. And, some I try to personify, like her overwhelmingly tornado way of being. She’s so fierce, like a lioness, yet she’s told me she wanted my father to take control so she doesn’t have to step up constantly.

My father’s inherent laid backness drives her insane. She’s a keep going type of person. He’s the person where we spent tons of quiet moments together. We’d fish, golf, what have you when I was younger. Him and my brother molded me into a Tom Boy. Plus, before I could talk or walk I was collecting ants and putting them in my purse.

What I want for my mother more than anything on her birthday is to find happiness. I’ve tried to tell her all we can control in this world is ourselves. She can’t control my brother or me anymore. She’s gotta focus on herself and finding something that gives her joy again.

“I can still control you and your brother, MD. I know what buttons to push to get you to do whatever I want. I know how to hurt you worse than anyone.”

This woman is right, and she’s used my deepest fears against me if I don’t play well with her. This fact has been told to me more times than I can count. She’s like a fierce bear that won’t let her cubs just be and expand themselves. A woman that you meet and you’ll never forget her.

My Ma, the immovable woman with all she is. I want her to know she can be much more. Just let go trying to force this world into being what you want. Start living in it for what it is, experience the beauty of being here like never before.

I choose to love you from a distance, but I still love you. It’s just getting closer to you is like inching closer to the sun with Icarus. My newly found wings will melt like wax in the heat of your need to control what and who I am now.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed then please press this 👉💚 and it’ll turn ❤️ to help people find my crazy… aka my Writing.



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