If I were there with you today I’d be the girl in the family section vomiting. Hypocrisy turns my stomach, especially when I’m asked to swallow it with a shot of lies.
In these last few days I’ve checked up on you to see how you are doing. Not once has anyone asked how I’m doing. How? I’m swooning from the heat of memories, but I’m not so drunk from the elements that I’m unable to see through the well crafted mirage that pacifies you day and night.
You’ve talked a lot, a whole lot but you never asked me how I’m doing, not once. The outright rejection from my sister and your typical showmanship, would have, at one time, resulted in loneliness and depression. I have not placed my hope in you. Mixed with all your flowery words, I have not placed hope.
You were either singing at the top of your voice or screaming about one of your addictions…. How am I doing? I’d like to slap your face with such force that your teeth shatter to dust and fall out of the corners of your mouth like sand in an hour glass.
I crouched so low in the corner that I could have become the wall. I would had it been possible. You never asked how I was doing when it was you who put enough fright in me and put my back against the wall. You must have felt powerful while looming above a second grade child. I told my mother each time but she never had the courage to face you. Instead, I was instructed on how to be a better child and stay out of the way. How does that make me feel? I turn my back to you, fearlessly!
And you, the one that brought me here, cannot ask how I’m doing. How? With wavering courage, wobbly legs and much doubt, I turned my back to you. I missed the last 20 years of your life, just a few years shy of how much you missed of mine.
I am not unphased. I’m not cold and heartless, but I cannot and will not share my grief with you.
Written July 31st, 2016 / 12:30 pm