“Okay. Bye.”
And just like that, I want to move out of Massachusetts. She can’t
move here. She doesn’t know anyone here. She’d expect me to
entertain her every day. I love my mother, don’t get me wrong, but I
moved to Boston to be on my own, and having her in the same city
would make me feel less independent.
My father was diagnosed with cancer three years ago while I was
still in college. If Ryle Kincaid were here right now, I’d tell him the
naked truth that I was a little bit relieved when my father became too
ill to physically hurt my mother. It completely changed the dynamic of
their relationship and I no longer felt obligated to stay in Plethora to
make sure she was okay.
Now that my father is gone and I never have to worry about my
mother again, I was looking forward to spreading my wings, so to
speak.
But now she’s moving to Boston?
It feels like my wings were just clipped.
Where is a marine-grade polymer chair when I need one?!
I’m seriously stressing out and I have no idea what I’d do if my
mother moves to Boston. I don’t have a garden, or a yard, or a patio,
or weeds.
I have to find another outlet.
I decide to clean. I place all of my old shoeboxes full of journals
and notes in my bedroom closet. Then I organize my entire closet. My
jewelry, my shoes, my clothes...
She cannot move to Boston.
invincible gmmral7
(invincible GmMRaL7)
#1