if I tell you what you want to hear...
12/31/04|11:37 a.m.

so I just threw my mom out of my room within five minutes of wishing her "Good morning." fuck.

...she came in and she asked me who Sara is, which just forces me to wonder how on earth someone who lives with me everyday does not know who, exactly, Sara is. I tried to calm down a little remembering that, for instance, she didn't take me to Wisconsin in April - Dad did - and so forth... and the way she asked did involve some knowledge of the girl, though by no means the most pertinent information. she asked if it was Sara who ended up in really shitty hospital here, that she had to get out of, (and you know, my mom refused to help with) whose mom was - (here I interrupted and said, "her mom" - because I don't even want to hear my mom's description of Sara's mom, after what they pulled together...on top of which she doesn't know Sara's mom, and I don't want to hear her summary of a person she hasn't even met.) anyway. I confirmed that, yes, that was Sara... and she said, "You were really unhappy with her mom," and I was like, "Yes? What? Should I be now? I was really unhappy with you also." (All in my head.) I asked her what her point was, why she was asking, and she said she was just trying to get an idea of who's who, but that's so random... something has to have made her think of this. so she finally tells me there's a message from Sara on the machine, and I'm like, "does she not sound ok? when did she call? what?" and my mom's like, "no, no, it's an old message..." and I'm like, "thank you for giving me a heart attack for no fucking reason whatsoever." I just sort of put my head on my hand because getting that scared is exhausting, and I had to come back down from it... and I told her she shouldn't freak me out like that for no reason (when really, it's the fact that Sara's not always ok that freaks me out) and she said she was sorry. I kept working on the breathing thing, and she started to move some of my things, on the floor near her, and I was like, "You really don't need to reorganize my stuff," and she said she was just trying to make space, and - sure enough - sat down. She sat down next to me, and she's like, "You're angry with me now," and I'm like, "no, I just...didn't need to be that freaked out first thing this morning." which is when she apologized. and just as I'm starting to ponder whether or not I want her to be *sitting down* and actually staying here, she says, "I want to ask you a dangerous question." She's already asking it, i.e. saying, "I want to ask you-" when I interrupt with some equivalent of, "Oh, for Godd's sake." I'm obviously a bit less than chipper today. She just freaked me out unintentionally. She's sitting in my room uninvited, and now she wants to ask me what she calls a dangerous question, which means it has a strong probability of seriously upsetting me - and she doesn't just "want to ask it" - she's *asking it*, except that I've interrupted her.

this, of course, does not stop her for long. anyone want to guess the question? anyone, anyone? ...she wanted to know if Sara and I are in a relationship. as "more than friends." I'm pretty sure I flushed, which I hate, and then I told her no, no damnit, no, we're friends. (well, actually, we're sisters, which is more than friends, but... what the fuck? I realized after she left that I haven't even told Sara I like girls yet; I keep meaning to, but we haven't been able to talk for more than three minutes, and it's not the first thing to come up. I did tell my aunt and uncle, though. the aunt and uncle who won't disown me over it.) and then I said something like, "this is ridiculous."

at which point she became entirely wounded and vulnerable to the cruel attack of her vicious daughter. I hate that. she's so fucking strong (she's leaving therapy, remember?) and then all of a sudden, she's a total wreck. and she doesn't like that people think of her as being all strong; she doesn't want that reputation, but she doesn't bother to balance it out... she just has these "I'm human, too!" breakdowns instead. fuck.

she asked me why it's ridiculous for her to be a person sometimes with a question. I said, "because you're my mom. you're never just a person. I'm sorry, but you're always my mom." (we are not friends. that isn't a judgment of you or a rejection of you; it's simply the truth. we are not friends. we cannot be friends. in a mother-daughter vein, we are very much like friends, but we are never outside of that mother-daughter vein. you know that thing you're so fond of reminding me, about how I'll always be your daughter? well, damnit, it goes both ways. you're my mom, and I don't care how completely you don't believe this - that means you're my mom and I'm your daughter, and no matter how good our relationship is, it's good within that context. always. and there are things I don't want to tell you, things I don't want to be with you, around you; and things I don't want from you. ok?) "on top of which, you're not supposed to bring this up."

a look of total shock and injustice. a completely loaded, almost sarcastic: "OK."

"no, remember, we talked about that. we made a deal about that. the talking stick? I have the talking stick on this one? you agreed to that. and this is the second time you've brought it up since."

some bullshit because now she wants to have not made that deal and then something about how she is in part, trying to look out for me. that's why she wants to know. so she can look out for me, around the fact that Sara and I are (not) together. right. fucking bullshit.

"can you just - get out of my room? please? this is just ridiculous." (that's when I said that. order confuses me. and then she pulled the "why is it ridiculous" crap, and said I could throw her out of my room, and she wouldn't even take it personally... and I was like, great. good morning. have a nice day. please close the door.

almost as fun as the day she walked up to me out of nowhere, also when I was at the computer, also when I was not doing well, to ask if I was gay. this was nearly three years ago, during the "why is Mary sick" question spree. it was preceeded by, "is it because you got glasses?" and in fact, this one is almost worse because... this is NOW. damnit. and now is supposed to be better. I don't know what's going on with her, but this is obviously just what went on with Sarah, too. "why can't I be a person?"

why? because you're a mom-person. you have a relationship with me that no other person on the planet can have. why the hell do you want so badly to have a relationship like everyone can? why the hell can't it *just* be cool to be my mom, instead of it having to suck that I decided - despite what you believe - that treating your kids like adults from the time they're born has (some serious benefits and) some seriously unfair backlash? I'm really sorry, but the "be a parent, not a friend" thing isn't entirely wrong. and the mom role isn't one you get to evoke only when it suits you. or helps justify what you want. you are my mom. all the time. I'm afraid that's not something you even get to take or leave; it just is. and minor as this may seem to a reader, who doesn't know the years of build-up... I am moving out, I am moving out, I am moving out.

as soon as I'm ready, I'm moving. I am working on being ready *now.*

(and one more) fuck (just for good measure).

~me

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