Mom

She found out yesterday. She left her room for the first time in months and found me talking with the girl. She was scared. Scared about what, exactly? I don’t know. She kicked both me and her out of the house. Told me to pack my bags. Called me a slut and her a “plague upon the upstanding”. I couldn’t get my words out but the girl

she spoke for me. put all those thoughts I had bottled up against her into words. I don’t really remember what she said, though. I always forget my thoughts, anyway. Why else would I create this blog if not for that reason? But what I do remember is that she put it all so… bluntly. My thoughts spiral and spin all the time, branch off into their own thoughts like a tree putting down roots. I was envious of her. How she was able to take my messy brain and straighten it all out.

Correction. I remember one thing that she said. I think it explained everything wrong with me in one fell swoop.

“I hate you.” What kind of sicko hates his own mom?

She gave you life. She raised you. She loved you with all of her heart.

She’s casting you out. She’s drifting you out to sea while she rots in her cabin.

This is the first time I’ve been homeless. I had to pack up my belongings in my school backpack with tears in my eyes. I had to run through the March woods with a laptop under one arm, her hand in mine, making a mad dash away from a hysterical combination of shrieking and furious sobbing. The salamanders that surround my house must have thought she and I were strange. One was full of righteous anger, and one had checked out of his own life. But they were running away. That goes against every law of the animal kingdom, right?

We ran for a long time. I think we passed the area where Noah’s body was found. I didn’t look back to check. I don’t know why my brain went to this, but when we were moving I remembered fourth grade English class. We were doing a class read of the myth of Orpheus. He came close to rescuing his wife from the underworld but he looked back to check if she was still there. In that moment she disappeared. You’ve probably heard of it.

We came to Tyler’s house at about 2 in the morning. Thank god that she accepted us in. We’re both sleeping on cots in their basement right now.

I don’t know how long this is going to last. I just know that I’m grateful.