(Note: My mother and I have always been at odds. We are so different and so much the same. My independent nature always caused us to butt heads and her words would fly. We are in and out of contact, and I turned to art and writing to let out the built up emotion from conversations and letters. The quoted portion is excerpts from a letter she wrote me, based on a conversation we'd had. The bottom is part of my response.)
"...through a lot for several years...
past relationships... antics... living... moving away... not come to your wedding...
What you do doesn't matter any more... frankly, I don't give a damn. Mom"
We find ourselves, as always, standing on the edge of a deep deep crevice. Always looking into the void that looms in between.
"...through a lot for several years...
past relationships... antics... living... moving away... not come to your wedding...
What you do doesn't matter any more... frankly, I don't give a damn. Mom"
We find ourselves, as always, standing on the edge of a deep deep crevice. Always looking into the void that looms in between.
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