soft.and.gentle

All I want is my freakin FAFSA done. It's not like I expect a lot from my mom, well, other than a financial safety net. My mom and I have an up and down relationship. I hate to get mad at her...well, maybe I am just more scared to get mad at her.

With my mom, you have to ask a year early to get anything done. I asked her a month ago to get her tax information, so I can do my FAFSA, so I have a job this summer.

Sometimes when I think about her I get a tightening feeling in my chest. She's all I have ever had, but at the same time, I've never had her. I like to think we're the same person, but I don't know her at all, so how can we be the same person. I want to be on the same plane with her, but we're not even on the same planet.

I sometimes feel guilty for only calling her when I need something, but I grew up feeling better off alone. We had good times, there's no denying that. In Okinawa, there were those rare occasions when she would take time off of work and we would go to Blue Lagoon (it was my favorite beach). She would buy me ice cream from the Japanese ice cream stand. Or, we would go to San A; a Japanese mall. She would buy me toys. Those times seemed to make up for all the times she wasn't there. I feel guilty for resenting her, after all, she was making money for me.

I want to go back so bad. I want to smell her freshly starched uniform. I want to feel her pick me up in her arms after a long day at work. I want to walk around the house in her combat boots. I want her to read me the Sunday comics in bed before church. I want to hold on to it all.

I don't want this. I want to change it; to fix it.

I bite my lip til it bleeds.

She's so delicate. I never know what it's going to be like when I call her. I think everything is getting worse. It's falling apart at home. Maybe everything is falling apart around me, and I am oblivious.

Everything is turning brown...dying. There is no life left at home.