a rant on life
Taking a break from my usual journal entries, I give you...
My mother and I are close. She claims that we used to be so much closer than we are now, before she made some seriously wrong choices in her life and ruined her relationships with everyone (including myself, for a brief time). In my personal opinion, we've grown so much closer than ever.
But that's not really what I wanted to rant about.
So today, when she offered to give me a lift to school, I was all psyched. I missed my momma, and as childish as it sounds, I love holding her hand for the ten or so minutes it takes to drive to the high school. I relish physical contact that doesn't make me feel all nervously, uncomfortably breathless.
I was expecting a feel-good drive, something to start my Friday off in good spirits.
But then mom started in on one of her new favorite Things To Complain About: the ex-boyfriend.
I seriously didn't get why she was complaining about it. At all. From what she said, they were fine with being friends. She said he kept trying to come onto her (which made me crinkle my nose in no small amount of disgust. Just... ew), but nothing happened. But then she talked about driving past his house and seeing the Other Woman's car parked in the driveway, how wrong it was for ex-boyfriend to lead them on, et cetera.
But mom, you just said you guys are friends. You want to be his friend. If you're not dating, what's stopping him from moving on and dating again?
And then she said "I wonder if it's because she doesn't satisfy him like I ever did."
Just... TMI, MOM. Sure, she's my mother, I'm her daughter; I'm the fruit of her womb and so on, but there's a point when you have to ask: "Am I going a bit too far?"
I told her to please kindly shut the fuck up, and to her credit, she did. But then she started in on how "I just want you to know how things are, but you'll probably have worse problems than me..."
It was weird, how I was planning on talking to her about the newest sexuality crisis that had blossomed in my head and she practically unlocks the door, pulls it open, and slaps down the "Welcome!" mat for me.
"Mom..." I said slowly, "I don't think I'll ever have these problems. You see, I don't think I ever want to be sexual. With anyone. It makes me feel uncomfortable."
...Okay, so I wasn't as eloquent as that, but that was the gist of my fumbling, angrily passionate defense. But case in point, I've been thinking about how, while I like to crush on people (mostly girls), I hardly ever think of anything more than kissing and cuddling. If I do think of something more, I feel vaguely uncomfortable and put it out of my mind.
I didn't need my mother's reassurances that there was nothing wrong with me, that it was alright to feel this way, but... well, I think I would've preferred that over how suddenly quiet and upset she got when I admitted that.
I kind of wanted to lean over the partition and shake her while shouting, "I don't feel this way just because of what Poppy did to me! Maybe it played a part in me being uncomfortable with thinking about sex, but I don't think he was the reason why I feel this way!"
I didn't, though. Mainly because I didn't feel like causing anymore drama to ruin my already-ruined morning, but also because she was kind of driving.
ANYWAY. I'm sorry for the incredibly lengthy post, but I needed an indulgence. Hopefully my next post will be more optimistic and not as self-centered as this.