So I'm watching Stepmom, and all that keeps running through my mind is, "I wish my mom were here with me." I know I'm probably going to cry while I write this, but it's true. Watching this movie is pretty much almost the epitome of what I had to go through as a child. As I'm looking at where my life has taken me to, where I am at this very moment in my timeline, I just wonder what she would say. I want to know what she would do when I submit my first college application, or how the ride would be to my first audition in a little over a month. I want her to ensnare me in a big hug and calm me with her soothing words; I always found the most serene comfort there. I just want her to pick me up and take me away from everything, and I want to go somewhere with her that's not just in my dreams or fantasies. I want it to be real and never have to dread waking up to my Imogen Heap ringtone as my alarm. I know there's all sorts of sentence fragments in here, but I don't care. This is what I feel and this is what I need and this is also my blog, where I can do whatever I want and say whatever I want and write however I want because what I'm expressing on here is real, and the scariest emotions that I feel, all wrapped into this giant array of something that pushes and adds weight to my chest, trying to cave me in. I feel like I'm going to explode with feelings like this and sometimes I don't know how to deal with them.
I just need my mom when things get like this. Living through all of this silent shit with my dad, I need my mom here to talk to, so she in turn can talk to him, and resolve all of this for me. I'm not scared...actually, no. That's completely false. I'm so scared that I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know how to talk to my father and tell him negative things. I'd rather keep my mouth shut and suffer in silence, than go through a confrontation and raising my voice to make my mark. I need her to help me find my voice. I need her to be here and tell me that everything is going to be okay. I need the mother that I always dream I still had, the one that I wrote about in my college essay, the one whose memory fills my thoughts every second of every day.
I know that she is proud of me. That's what everyone always tells me. That's what they think, and what they think will help to soothe my pain, so that is what they say. I know that she wouldn't have her only daughter be different in any way or any less of the person I am now, but...
I just wish that I didn't have to hear it from everyone else. I just wish that I could get that once in a lifetime chance for her to tell me herself.
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