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A Sunday Drive with my mother

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>“What happened to the strong, beautiful happy girl I used to know?”
What is with my mom today? As if she just now noticed I’m not the same.
“I don’t know. When did I start acting different?” Ha, now I’m just playing games. I knew when I started acting different. But I will never tell her… she would think I was being over dramatic. She doesn’t know just how special he was and how much it killed me after he died.
>“Hmmm around January, maybe?”
Wrong. It was months before that. But despite her supposed ability to pick up on the small stuff, she didn’t notice. “January. What went on in January?”
>“Isn’t that when you and Erin got in that big fight? Y’all quit being friends shortly after that.”
I could care less about Erin. She was a jerk to him the whole time he and I were together. In all honesty, I couldn’t wait to get rid of her. “I’m not sure what you are talking about.” More games. She won’t even care enough to catch the lie.
>“I just don’t understand; you used to be so happy.”
Hello? Is that supposed to be a question? Even if it is, you don’t care about the answer anyway.
>“Are you listening to me, young lady?”
No; are you listening to me? Of course not. You never do. Want to know why I’m so unhappy? I miss him. He was my life and was the reason I was so strong, beautiful, and happy. When he was gone, I just didn’t feel like there was a reason to try anymore. He was my best friend, and now he’s gone. And you probably wouldn’t even know to whom I was referring if I even brought his name up in conversation, would you? So to answer your question…
“Sorry mom, I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”




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Captain said...
Aug. 30, 2010 at 6:22 pm:
It's sad when the people who are supposed to be there to help can't even notice the major changes.  One can only hope to find their Paul McCartney (Who looks at all the lonely people)
 
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