Anyway, bout lunchtime, I called my mom to ask her she could bring something up. First cll was on the landline. No answer. Left a message and texted.
She said she was in my room and said to call her. I asked her what she was doing in my room out of curiosity.
Her reply:
"Oh, just building a pantry."
That f*cking bucking hurt.
I think that the way she said it made it worse. She had said it like she was telling me she had just eaten a sandwich. Like it was normal. A daily event.
Anyway, she said she'd be up to bring what I wanted in a few minutes, so I waited in another room to look out the window. I cried. As soon as I heard the car pull up, I ran downstairs to the garage, trying to look like today was just any other day.
Nope.
Even though I smiled a huge (fake) smile, she instantly realized tht something was wrong.
She offered to let me come home for a while. It hurts just thinking about this. She kept asking questions then said,
"Is it just because of today?"
At first I didn't understand, but when she asked it a second time it clicked why she was asking.
Fathers Day.
Which bings me to another sub-subject.
I'm very sensitive about dad stuff. I don't feel like explaining it, so the reader's digest is that I never met my dad until almost exactly three years ago and my stepdad was a flank hole. Didn't even really realize that I existed. Thank Celestia he's gone now.
Anyhow, like I said, anything dad-related is touchy for me. Four years ago, I broke down because someone in this girls activity group was playing a song about the singer's dad being proud of them, or the singer was the dad and they were proud of their kid or something. I feel like crying if a song mentions the singer's dad or the like.
So yeh. Pretty sh*tty day. I can honestly say that one of the few highlights of my day was when I thought I fixed my computer, but then I was wrong.
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