The Book Of Anna & English

38 - Mortal Man

This was another hard one little ducks but I think you'll will be happy with the results.

Triggers:

- Mother

***

it makes me feel like I'm falling into the depths.

***

Anna

Just stop giving what you can't give now.

Ego fragmentation, also known as my therapy sessions, taught me many things, but it didn't prepare me for what I was about to do today.

It's not from a lack of trying on my therapist's part, I didn't understand the problem back then, and if you don't see the problem, you can't get a solution. I shut my diary, wedge it under my bed and stand up. A big breath rolls out of me, and without thinking any further, I march downstairs, taking the steps two at a time because I'm running out of nerves by the second.

I find my mother in the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea and reading a magazine. My entrance is sharp, and her eyes snap towards me in fright from how quickly I appeared. Her pin-straight hair falls over her shoulders, her suit pressed and wrinkle-free.

"There was a yellow dress when I was thirteen, a plain knee-length yellow dress I used to wear to church sometimes. We bought it at a thrift store together and got milkshakes afterward." I can't read the emotions on her face, and for a moment, I feel bad that I hadn't prepared her before I started rambling, but that's only until I remember she never prepares me.

"You told me I looked nice in it one day, and it became my favorite thing to wear. I wore it until it ripped at the seams, and then I got it fixed so I could wear it more." I continue, breathing deeply and blinking away the tears, thinking back to when I held the scrapes of the dress in my hands, crying over the material because I didn't fit in it anymore.

"Anna." She breathes, but I shake my head, holding my hand up. She'll have her turn; I just need to finish mine first. "When I turned fifteen, you took me to a boutique, told me you want to spoil me because I'm becoming a woman." It was the only time she ever mentioned me becoming a woman. I cried again when the pearls started coming loose; I cried so much that one day I just stopped. I was a girl wondering why my clothes suddenly fit differently.

She's catching up to what I'm doing, and I see myself in her in so many ways that it makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. She used to be my best friend and worst enemy all at once, and looking at her now, seeing how she's sitting at the kitchen island, barely containing her own emotions, I know I'm doing the right thing. "You bought me a blouse, the one with the little pearls everywhere, do you remember it?" I used to twirl myself in the sun to see the reflection of the little pears; if I were lucky, I would catch a rainbow.

She nods once, looking down at her teacup. "Then that became my favorite because you told me I looked like a real lady, wore it until the material crumbled." I take a big breath, my whole body is alive, and my nails dig into my palms.

"I'm not saying these things to hurt you, mom; I'm saying these things because I don't know if you love me and because you were supposed to tell me how my body is changing instead of pushing diet pills my way over this very counter." I push my finger into it to emphasize, my voice rising, and I try to take several calming breaths.

"I needed my mother, and I hate myself for still needing you even after you made it clear you don't need me." I lose it then, letting the sobs fall, my shoulder shaking because how is it supposed to feel when you lose the mountain you've been carrying all the time.