Homesickness

It all started when I was sort of flirting with someone I shouldn’t have been sort of flirting with anyway.  The conversation switched from sort of flirty to serious when he started telling me how his dad was getting old and still drinking every day. 

"That must be hard to watch," I texted back, then smacked myself because that was probably an asshole thing to say.

  "I’m used to it," he said.

 "You’re a good son," I texted, then smacked myself again because that was an even dumber thing to say.

 "Sarcastic?" he texted me, because I said something that stupid, and because I was on a roll,  I wrote back,

"No, I was being serious."  And he wrote "Thanks" in this way that I could tell I’d totally blown the conversation and the sort of flirting and I started crying, not because of the sort of flirting (I really didn’t care) but because of what it means to be a good son or daughter.

I’ve got the worst urge to call my mom and I just can’t.  I actually need to talk to her, I have logistical questions about graduation and such, and I can’t talk to her, because if I do, I’ll cry, which is what happened the last time and I can’t do that.  Conversations with her result in the inevitable nagging, the inevitable comparison between her two college daughters, one being perfect (my sister) and one being anything but (me).  Or the insinuations about how I’m not close with the family.  They’re true, but yelling at me for it doesn’t make me want to come closer.

I love my mother.  Last night, I would have killed to be comforted by her, although I’m not even sure how I managed to get that upset in the first place.

Then I started reminiscing.  Earlier this semester, I tripped and fell face-first into the sidewalk, broke my nose, and got some stitches.  It sucked, but the best part (I’m not being facetious, it was really good) was the way Mom and Dad came up at 11 pm for just a half hour to drop me off brownies and bandages and the look on Mom’s face and the way she hugged me, then offered to stay over.  I’m crying right now thinking about it, I guess because I just want to be babied like that again rather than nagged, which is exactly what will happen if I call her.

Then I started thinking weird thoughts.  I’m not into self-mutiliation or self-injury or anything like that, but I started fantasizing about getting injured just enough to end up in the hospital again so they’d have to come back and I could get that kind of hug.  Only it would eventually backfire.  Hospital visits are expensive.

I’m stalling I suppose.  The real issue is eventually, I’m going to have to start spilling the whole truth about everything, the real reason why I don’t call that often, the real reason why they don’t know anything about my life.  I just can’t do it though and there are moments, like right now, when I’d rather be in the hospital than have a real conversation with my mother.

I love how I’m so selfish too.  I’m thinking only in terms of myself, what I need from my family, not what they need from me.  Granted, my family is fairly self-sufficient without me.  I tend to cause more harm than good.

I have to shrug off the family stuff when I talk to people at school because family problems have to be categorized into certain categories, "Divorce issues" "Alcoholism" "Family Member with Disease and/or Psychological Issues" "Money" "Abuse" and mine are probably imaginary, but real enough that they hurt.  It makes me a lot less excited about graduation, even though I’m speaking.  Yeah, they’ll be proud of me, but in the back of their heads, they’ll be a sort of resentment and I can’t really blame them.

Lord I’m a brat.  Hopeless, pitiful, pathetic brat.  And I’m late for work.