Beginnings are scary, endings are mostly sad. But it's the middle that counts.

One of my favorite topics of conversation as a girl was how much I hated my family.
It was confusing, messy, abnormal and I hated my mother. Especially during my early-teens, I enjoyed telling horror stories about my family. All of my old friends know all about how much I hate them. But you know what? I was an idiot. Sure, my family is royally fucked up. But those fucked-up people love me, and are always there for me when I need them. I love my mother. Do you know that? I love her, more than anything else in the world. And I can't even imagine living without her. Sometimes you just need your mom. And I am so lucky because my mom has always been there for me. How many people can say that? How many people actually talk to their mothers? Not as many as you'd think. I know she's crazy, but I love her. And I am deeply ashamed of all the times I have maligned her. I can remember having a fights with my mom, and after telling her how much I hated her, I would sit at the kitchen table with my sister, having a conversation loudly about how much of a horrible bitch my mom was, so that she could overhear us. Elise and I did it a lot. It was the only thing we agreed on: how much of a bitch mom was. I wonder how much that hurt her--sisters bonding over a shared hatred of their mother? Disgusting. Later, much later, when my mom and step-dad got divorced, I can remember sitting around with him talking about how horrible she was. What kind of daughter does that? Not a very good or kind one. I hope I get a daughter just like that. I deserve it. She is a wonderful person, my mom. A little too selfless perhaps. A little too overbearing. A little too quick to yell. But she's my mom and she doesn't deserve the shit she puts up with. God. What is my problem tonight? I'm crying over everything. I think this whole thing with grandad has hit me harder than I thought. The real problem is that I haven't come to terms with death yet. Who do I know who's died? No one close to me. I have all my grandparents, and I am so lucky for it. I think tonight for the first time I got a little hint of what it would be like not to be able to hug my mom anymore. It sucks. I hate this.

I wasn't going to publish this. People actually ~read~ this, you know. But the people who read this deserve to know what a bitch I've been to my mom.

current music: Music of the Night, Phantom of the Opera