Amazing Words
A few hours after I came home from the church, I heard Matt’s car pull out of the driveway. I figured he had gotten lost on the way back. He wasn’t exactly what I would call an experienced woodsman. I didn’t really see his leaving as relevant. I had already broken up with him.
That was kind of a smack in the face for me. I mean, we had only been dating a week and already it felt as though I would never look at him the same again. I had tried calling Niki when I got home, but she didn’t answer her cell. A couple of months ago, I would’ve called Milly and told her about it, but I couldn’t talk to her right now. This only seemed to add depth to my depression.
I heard my mom rolling through the hallway on the far side of the house and I was struck with an idea. Maybe I could talk to her about it…but that was ludicrous. It would never work. I would walk away feeling exactly the same as I had, if not worse. But maybe it will. The other side of me argued. It felt like my mind had split into two teams, each with it’s own opinion and idea about the consequences of my choice. One half of me wanted to believe that it would work, but the other half of me was fighting for the logical side, I believed. My mom and I had never been close. Well, not since her accident, anyway. She was always saying things now that made it seem like she didn’t want me around or she didn’t care about me anymore. That kinda made it hard to have any decent relationship with her.
Her wheels got closer and I knew that I would have to talk to her now, if ever. If I didn’t say something now, I would never have the courage to speak up later. So I decided. I would talk to her.
She pushed open my door.
"Ali, your dad just called. We’re going out to dinner tonight." I started at her, unable to think of anything to say. I went with the obvious.
"Mom, can we talk?" I felt maybe six years old asking her that.
"Sure." She said, pushing open the door to my room further. She pushed the wheels on her chair, bringing herself further into the room. "What did you want to talk about?" I couldn’t read whether she was shocked or scared or happy or anything. I was too caught up in my own emotions.
"Us." I said plainly. She waited me out. "We haven’t been getting along." I said. I didn’t have anything else to say after that, but she stayed silent for some time.
"Oh." She said finally. "I guess we haven’t." She stared at her feet.
"It feels like you hate me." I said. I felt the tears coming and I tried to hold them back. I felt like if I said anything else, all the tears would come spilling out. I couldn’t look at her.
"I don’t." She said. I could tell that she was crying, but I still didn’t look up at her. "I really don’t. I don’t try to make you think that." I knew she didn’t. Why did I even say that? I knew she didn’t hate me. But that was how it felt sometime.
"Am I doing something wrong?" I asked as a few tears spilled over my eyelids and rolled down my face. Her quiet crying turned to sobs.
"No." That was the word I had been waiting so desperately to hear. It was selfish of me, but I needed to know that I wasn’t the cause of this whole thing.
"Then why do you act like that?" There was a long pause in which the whole world seemed to have stopped spinning.
"I don’t know." This only made the tears come faster. I still tried to hold them back, but I wasn’t doing so good a job at it. "I really don’t know." There was only one more question to be asked.
"Do you think we could fix it?" I asked. I waited and waited for a response from her, but it seemed to come entirely to slowly.
"Yes." I sighed a sigh of relief and let my tears fall fast and uncontrolled. All the anger and resentment I had had for her for the past seven years melted away and I literally felt the tension leave the room. I tried to carry on with the conversation so that the tears would stop.
"I broke up with my boyfriend." I said. I didn’t look up to see her reaction.
"I didn’t know you were dating anyone." She said. I could tell she had stopped crying.
"I haven’t been for long. Maybe a week." I said. I finally got the courage to look her in the eye. What I saw was the sad face of a mother that felt like she was missing her daughters life. My eyes threatened to overflow again. I didn’t want her to miss my life. I wanted her to be a part of my life.
"Was he nice?" She asked.
"I thought he was." I said. She nodded as if she understood.
"Sometimes boys aren’t always as nice as they pretend to be." She said. "They’ll do anything to get what they want." I understood exactly what she was saying. I remembered Matt’s words exactly. ‘All I want is you.’ ‘I want you, Ali. I would never do anything to hurt you.’ Well, where were we now. He was probably back at his house, sulking about the fact that he had lost something he wanted. And I was still torn up over the fact that he had hurt me. It wasn’t a great place to be.
I thought about the kisses he had tried to force me into and I wondered if he would’ve done more, had I given him the chance. He wasn’t a Christian, and his standards didn’t match mine. There was no telling how far he would’ve gone if I hadn’t walked away. I shuddered. If I hadn’t walked away. Suddenly, sitting in my bedroom talking to my mom was the happiest place I could think to be.
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