Nov 04, 2004 15:19
Home? Home. What is home? I don’t actually want to go home, HOME. I want to go to some place that’s going to wrap me in comfort like a womb. I want my mommy, but I don’t want MY mommy because frankly I don’t like that cold, loving denying bitch all that much. No I want the ideal of a mommy that smells like lavender and peppermint and makes me chicken soup. Someone who wraps me up in pink comforters that she crotched and tells me everything is going to be okay and I can believe her. That is definitely not my workaholic, polemic, mama. Does this place and person really exist or is this just an ideal that we create for ourselves so we’ll always feel discontented in our intimidating, insecure world? I think perhaps it is, but I’ll still sit here and pine for the idea of it, bleating the empty epithet ‘Mommy, mommy. I want my mommy.’ Fuck mommy!
My mommy never baked me chocolate chip cookies and I think I resent that. I want someone to take care of me. I don’t want to have to worry anymore I just want to feel secure. Fine, fine that’s all fine and dandy, but then these are not the things I seek in my own life. When a nice boy who is destined to make a nice living in his near future sits down and says ‘I like you and I want you around.’ Instead of cooing or falling into his arms, I get panicky. I grab my shit and get the hell out of there. I obsess the better part of a day about what would make such a person say that to me. To ME!? No, no, it can not be. No one could like me that quickly. And his saying he just wants to hold me and he just wants me to spend the night so he can wake up in morning with me beside him and know that this is not just a dream (yes, yes he said it, it’s corny and no I didn’t puke all over him). And I start having palpitations. Not good palpitations, the kind that are the precursor to my panic attacks. The kind that sort of feel like minor heart attacks except I know they’re not because I’m too young to have a heart attack. And then I run home crying because I can probably never see this perfectly nice boy who reminds me of my very best friend from home who I never see any more because he’s a manic depressive pizza delivery boy in St. Louis. And all I really want is that fun, casual friendship that makes me feel totally at ease. Where I can eat junk food and play Mystery Science Theater with and not feel self conscious or judged by any of it. And I wake up feeling wretched because I know that I am never going be able to have this because I know I’m going to treat this boy like shit so he’ll go away and I won’t be responsible (really) for it. Through it all I actually like that he likes me, I just hate that I can’t like him back. I want a friend just like him, but I guess that I don’t want him because . . . I don’t even know why. I guess it’s that he’s not cute enough (still) but that makes me awfully shallow considering how much I really do like him personally. I actually don’t know why. I just know that when he said all these kind sort of romantic things I had a panic attack. Obviously that must mean that I don’t LIKE like this boy and I could never LIKE like this boy because after one such episode I really don’t feel willing to try again.
Fuck this shit. MOMMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!