She doesnt care.
She doesnt care. Her voice on the other end of my hand phone lose its power, once Ive taken it away from my ear. Im trying to block out the words in the hope that Ill stop understanding them, stop feeling descused as
she drones on never minding the fact that she answered my question three hundred pages ago.
My sister is bored, seeking in company, all alone. And I feel the same
sadness and fear that this will be me at her age. Its the same emotion that I
felt when I would sit in front of the TV with my drunk mother, and the looks the same when I cant meet her eyes. A terrible sadness because its so blatant that I dont like her being with me. And finally when I grab the words and force them out of my mouth she does not hear them, and utters back,
thats your option as if Ive not been sitting at my desk doing the whole fucking research think for hours. She demeans my whole mental case by those words. Ive explained
it to everyone and they can see how proud I am of my thoughts, and all she can say is, thats your option. If only she would care enough to give me the time to explain it to her.
I try so hard. I ask her questions. Like mother like daughter, I try to remember
not to talk about myself, because then the opening will come, the cut down.