Girl You Are Rich, Even with Nothing

"Player" by 112

...I'm a player / girl I thought you knew / when you started messin' around with me/ you knew I wouldn't commit to you / cuz I'm a player...

Thanksgiving Day has passed. I spent it here in Houston, Texas with people I barely know.

I sense that my Mom thinks I skip out on the family because I don't like them. At least, that is what is communicated to me by my aunts and uncles that talk to me about the way my mother perceives me.

I love them. There is no place in the world I would rather be than home, even in these times of awkward tension.

I did not call them on Thanksgiving Day. I felt bad for not being at home. Simultaneously, holidays don't hold any significance for me because I feel like a nomad. A nomad with no family.

I feel as though lonely nomads of thousands of years ago probably died earlier than their accompanied peers.

I am going to my parents' house in a week. My Daddy is traveling home so I will be hanging out with darling Lima. I can't imagine how my Mom and I are going to get along. I know we won't fight or anything because I don't do that with her anymore. I wonder if she will talk to me at all. I wonder if I will be able to resist staying out of her way.

Something tells me that she doesn't really want me there but she has no choice. I'm the best person imagineable who could tend to Lima so meticulously. I must stay out of her way. I don't want to anger her or annoy her.

I also can't hope for a miracle while I am at home. The heart in my mind wants me to hope that having to see me everyday for two weeks will weaken her resolve to be mad at me or forget me (or whatever she is doing). But the mind in my heart is trying to let me know that I am being ridiculous and I am underestimating the strength of my Mom's will and the depth of her frustration.

I hope I can resist the temptation to make a scene while at home. It's just that I want her to know that I grew up, I understand, I miss her, I love her, and I want her to forgive me.

I don't need to move back in. I wouldn't mind but I don't have to.

When I was younger and people would tell me that they could make themselves cry, I didn't understand. I was under the impression that one could only cry when in pain. And I was one of the happiest children so I could never "cry on demand".

I can do that very well now. And it isn't just "crying on demand". I actually have things to cry about that I conceal until the appropriate time.

It's usually about my Mama. I can be sitting in the happiest of moments but if I think about my Mama, I can easily, easily cry. That is what I want for her to know. That I'm not a selfish child, I just had to grow up. The more heartbreaking thing about growing up and changing is realizing how horrible you used to be. The most heartbreaking thing is not being able to show the person who matters the most how much better you are. Sorry Mom.