T emailed me this morning. I am cross with her – she told me she wasn’t going to reply to any of my emails, yet this morning she did. I love her for replying, it was nice to hear her ‘voice’, but I wish she hadn’t. She isn’t meant to break the rules.
In her email she wrote that she was looking forward to seeing me. Welcome, ANGRY.
I HATE HER for leaving me on Mother’s Day. I hate her for making me feel all these amazing things, like being cared for and being trusted and like maybe I’m not dirty right the way through. I hate that she makes me feel all these things and then she takes holiday from me – she takes a box labelled ‘work’, puts me in it, puts a lid on it and then travels to the OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD to get away from that box. To get away from me. Please, don’t tell me you’re looking forward to seeing me when you’ve travelled half the globe to escape me. I sent my mum a card and a present and I rang her this morning and I was such a good daughter, but the person who actually mothers me is in the process of running to the furthest geographical point away from me. I can’t believe she has left me.
I’m off to the gym now to pound the angry out on the treadmill. Then I’m going to hibernate until the tears stop. I will email her when I’m calmer to retract my hatred filled email. But it is easier to tell her that I hate her, than it is to tell her that I am desperate for her. 23 sleeps.