I’ve had such a lovely day today.
My mum and I have spent the day together. We went to Covent Garden (my favourite place in the world), and we wandered around the shops, bought books, watched street performers on unicycles and listened to buskers playing Bob Dylan and Guns and Roses in turn. Then we had dinner, and went to the theatre to see Stomp, which was absolutely mesmerising (if a little loud!). The strength and the rhythm was incredible. Then we got the train home.
I’m curled up in bed now, wondering whether it is possible for her to have fallen in love with me? Is it possible, do you think, that she may have never loved me as a child, but as an adult (particularly as I’ve grown up in the last few months), she can love me now? I cannot understand how she could have despised me so much as a baby, and yet now that very same mother and daughter can wander around a bookshop in perfect harmony.
I am still fearful of her, I still search for signs of her viciousness, the cutting comment or the stinging slap, but it seems like maybe that was an old pattern; now she loves me, that seems impossible.
Is it possible that I’ve become good enough to love?