I get a phone call at 10pm. My mom. She’s grabbing some tequila and heading out to the porch. She tells me she doesn’t want me to be upset but her and my dad are separating, again. I’m not upset mom, this is the fifth time y’all have separated. She starts to cry to me about how she feels bad but she doesn’t want to care for other people anymore. I can relate to that….but I don’t give up on people I love. Maybe my perseverance comes from watching her and my dad give up on everyone and everything throughout my life. Maybe my strength and maternal instincts comes from watching them abandon my siblings while they deal with their own shit.
As I sit here, 4 vodkas in and realizing I haven’t written in a few days, I am reminded of my deep fear of space and the cosmos. And how awful space travel seems.