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Mar. 1st, 2004 02:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thejunipertreeSitting last night, on the floor by my broken down computer desk. Sifting through the pile of debris that had fallen when I opened up the lopsided storage door. Taking apart the computer, cleaning all the cords and untangling them, putting everything back together. The low murmur of The Engineer and Miss Robin as they attempted to puzzle the pieces of my third-generation-new desk that came with numerous screws and no instructions.
On the carpet, face down, was a photograph. I picked it up and studied its glossy face.
My mother and I, during my bridal shower, a millions years ago. She, smiling into the camera. Me, looking hot and uncomfortable and slightly put out. I remember that day clearly. I hate being the center of attention and a bridal shower is the ultimate in one being in the limelight.
I looked at her face, as I sat there crosslegged on the carpet. She's grinning, with her gold hair piled on top of her head. Dangly earrings, long red nails, and a drink of something or other alcoholic in her hand. My arm is around her shoulders. She's wearing a royal blue shirt, stretched tight across her chest.
She looks so happy. She looks so healthy.
I began to cry. Quietly, so no one notices what I'm doing. I'm very good at hiding my tears. I can cry in a room full of people with no one the wiser. It hurt to look at that photo, it still hurts. I'm looking at it right now, propped up on my keyboard as I type.
Wiping my eyes, I called to the Engineer. Look at this. I say.
Who is that? he says, which sends another bolt of pain through my body. He sees her face almost as much as he sees my own.
That's my mother.
no scanner, so I used my webcam to take this.
I was planning on writing more, but I can't.
It hurts too much.
On the carpet, face down, was a photograph. I picked it up and studied its glossy face.
My mother and I, during my bridal shower, a millions years ago. She, smiling into the camera. Me, looking hot and uncomfortable and slightly put out. I remember that day clearly. I hate being the center of attention and a bridal shower is the ultimate in one being in the limelight.
I looked at her face, as I sat there crosslegged on the carpet. She's grinning, with her gold hair piled on top of her head. Dangly earrings, long red nails, and a drink of something or other alcoholic in her hand. My arm is around her shoulders. She's wearing a royal blue shirt, stretched tight across her chest.
She looks so happy. She looks so healthy.
I began to cry. Quietly, so no one notices what I'm doing. I'm very good at hiding my tears. I can cry in a room full of people with no one the wiser. It hurt to look at that photo, it still hurts. I'm looking at it right now, propped up on my keyboard as I type.
Wiping my eyes, I called to the Engineer. Look at this. I say.
Who is that? he says, which sends another bolt of pain through my body. He sees her face almost as much as he sees my own.
That's my mother.
no scanner, so I used my webcam to take this.
I was planning on writing more, but I can't.
It hurts too much.