Just Because You’re Like Me Doesn’t Mean You Should Love Me

Relationships are hard. Even with the people you love (sometimes, especially with the people you love), you get to a point where you want to choke them. Holidays make the perfect setting, to force the issue. And it’s all the more tragic when the shit hits the fan on “The Most Wonderful Day of the Year.”

I wrote something recently about rejoicing in putting away the Christmas decorations, and not being too gentle about it. Today, I grabbed hold of the greens on the mantle and the hall tree, and stuffed them in the Yard Waste bin. It feels good to get it out of your home.

My mom left too, and right now she must be six or seven hours ahead of us, about to be a full nine hours, arriving in Germany around 9:30 tomorrow morning. At times I think she loves me most because I remind her of herself, and that somehow redeems her.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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