(no subject)
My mother has left, and I miss her. I feel like I am 12 again, or 9 and desperately afraid that in the wake of losing one parent I will lose another. Desperately afraid that I will be cast out into the world, adrift. I want and need something, which I'm not getting but I cling to her anyway in the hopes that something might change.
It's a desperate, despairing holding on, not the yearning for somebody but the idea of them.
It's a desperate, despairing holding on, not the yearning for somebody but the idea of them.