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READS
RINGS
It's odd that I haven't updated in so long. Not odd because it's abnormal for me these days. Odd because I've had a lot to say. None of what I have to say is particularly funny, which is pretty much what I do here, but I'm sure I can season my monotony with some smartass comments to ward off the shakes.
I've been thinking a lot of my mom and sister. Their birthdays are coming up. It will be strange to me for their respective days to pass without calling them. But I know even the shortest, least personal birthday greeting from me or the girls will only give them the false impression that I am inviting them back into my life. That would be like inviting cancer to one's brain. They can't just take the inch they're given and be happy, they want a couple miles: they couldn't settle for just phonecalls from the girls and accept that as the bed they've made, the mess they've created. No, they'd quickly begin to push for day trips, then overnight visits. Considering I had to bring police to ensure that I got my kids back from her on their last visit, that's not likely to happen again.
My mom called very unexpectedly a couple of months ago. She wanted to speak to the girls and had I not been so completely caught off guard, I'd have refused. Instead, I just listened in. She talks this...well, you think it's honey until it drips on you. And even at first when it drips on you, you're so taken by her bullshit that you still think it's honey. But then you smell burning flesh and realize you're in a lot of pain and you know her honey is just cleverly disguised acid. But after years (and years) you grow wiser and you know not to even get near her. She knows I'm wise to her now and it pisses her off. I know her game of lies and martyrdom. I spoke to her that day--she thinks I should 'get over' that pesky attempted kidnapping thing because it's 'in the past'. No apology. No admittance of wrong-doing. Just a very haughty and hostile indignity that I had the gall to not just sweep it under the rug. She expects me to just grab a spoon when she dishes out shit and keep quiet.
That hurts. It hurts a lot that my mother is more interested in her own self-serving agendas than in having a relationship with me. It hurts that she would rather be stubborn an self-righteous than be a mom to me. It hurts to know that she has told everyone with ears what an ungrateful bitch I am. And it hurts that she pulled her shit and ruined what little bit of a relationship we had just a couple of weeks after Ginger died. She had/has no regard for what I was already going through. All that mattered to her was what she wanted. And, I forgot to mention, my sister was in on it all with mom and is just as wretched.
I'm glad I wrote this; I'll come back and read it when I feel obligated to call them on their fucking birthdays.
design by fergie
Bits of fire in the sky push me east back home. I used to live in flames
but it's hard on the wings. Choke me. Smoke me. Scare me back. You try
but you just can't. I peel the layers in my spare time, and you're easy
to see through. I can fly, I've discovered on my own. I may be the lesser
butterfly but my wings are just as strong. Who are you to tell me to find
a place to land? I may be the lesser butterfly but baby watch me glide.
