I never thought that her anger could affect me so much. My mom is mad at me, for whatever reason, and she has been for a week now. It started last weekend, when I was supposed to wash the dishes. My dad started washing the dishes because he didn’t know that I was supposed to, and I didn’t stop him. I hate washing the dishes and if someone else wants to do it, that’s fine by me. My mom came down and was furious that I hadn’t stopped my dad and done the dishes myself. She started yelling at me, that I was a college student, that I should know better, that I shouldn’t let my dad do the chores. This sexist attitude of hers riles me up every time so I was pissed off because of it. I told her that my dad was almost done with the dishes anyways so there was no point in stopping him. That really made her mad. She began yelling even more about how I don’t do anything in this house and I act like everyone is my slave. Of course, that’s not the case. I may not do much in the house, but I do whatever she tells me to. And I certainly don’t treat anyone like my slave. Anyways, I stopped my dad, and finished up the dishes. I was really pissed at this point because she had been yelling that I should spontaneously clean the house but I don’t. That I should at least clean the stairs every weekend I come home but I don’t. I’m sorry that I wasn’t aware of this chore that I was never even told about. If she had told me to do it, I would have. That combined with that sexist attitude really had me boiling. I stomped upstairs and declared I wasn’t hungry for dinner. My mom forced me to sit and eat because she wanted us all to eat together. When she called my dad, he said he’d already eaten and didn’t join us. That really seemed to piss off my mom. At the table, as we’re eating, my mom starts to cry. I hate seeing her cry because it makes me want to cry. It wasn’t my fault that she cried but I still felt a little bad. To be honest, she’s been crying more and more lately and she doesn’t try to hide it in front of the kids anymore. I don’t know what it is. Anyways, after that, she ignored me for the next few days. She was at work during the day so we didn’t have to interact for most of the day but in the evenings, she ignored me. After about two days, she was ok but she doesn’t talk to me. She doesn’t tell me what to do. She hasn’t asked me to pray and when my turn to wash the dishes came around again, she indirectly asked no one in specific whose turn it was and my sister said it was mine. She didn’t even tell me to pick up the kids on Friday until I asked if I supposed to. I’ve already gotten over my anger, I was over it the morning after the incident. I get over things really fast. And she should have gotten over it too. But she hasn’t. I usually extend peace offerings if I’m mad at someone younger than me but she’s older and she’s my mom. And the fact that she’s still mad at me makes me want to cry. It has made cry. I feel like she doesn’t care about me anymore ¬†and I want to do something really bad to get her attention, to see if she’ll do anything.

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Car Ride

We’re going to go see a movie. The newly weds will obviously sit in the front together, how adorable. They really are so cute. Now the rest of us have to cram in the back. That’s 5 of us. A couple people are already in the car and I wait for the other girl to go in first but she doesn’t get the hint and now we’re being yelled at for taking so long and somehow I end up next to you. I tried to avoid it, really I did. I didn’t want to sit right up next to you, crammed against your body. But the door is slammed shut, and it’s you, me, and the door. Everyone else is on the other side of you. So it’s not like I can talk to anyone else besides you. Not that I don’t want to talk to you, of course I do, but to have your undivided, focused attention, it’s a little unnerving.

You offer me a headphone and we start listening. You put your arm around me. You always put your arm around the back of the seat next to you but because we’re all crammed together, your arm ends up around me. I hate to admit it but I enjoy it. All of it. The arm, the headphones, the attention. I’ve felt this way for a long time but I can’t say I know about you. You’re way out of my league for one thing and I never picked up on anything from your end. So I quietly enjoy my time with you and try to hide my feelings because I know they won’t go anywhere. We talk about some of the songs and other stuff in general. I drop my bangs between my face and yours occasionally because the proximity makes me uncomfortable. You lean in really close and say things right into my ear when I do that.

After a fantastic 30 minutes that I thoroughly enjoy, we finally arrive to the movies. We don’t sit next to each other like we did last time. Afterwards, when I ask how you liked the movie, you tell me you don’t know because you weren’t really paying attention. My thoughts wander as to why but I quickly squash them before they wander too far. It’s nothing.

Roof Chilling

We have some time to kill before the party tonight so we head up to the roof with another friend. We get to the roof and climb up to the smaller and higher roof using a shaky ladder. You come up last to make sure everyone makes it up safely. You start to tell me about this movie. At first, I’m interested. You talk with your arm around the other friend. You guys are pretty tight so it’s cool. We sit on bricks and upside down buckets as you describe what happened.

After a while, I’m not even listening anymore. To be honest, this is starting to sound really boring. But I can’t bring myself to stop you. I want to stay here with you. I want to spend time with you. And this story is just not ending. I wonder if you’re stretching it to spend time with me. No, no you’re not. It’s not possible. I know how I feel but I’m pretty sure the feelings aren’t reciprocated so I just soak in the little moments I get with you.

At some point I realize we’re going to be late for the party if we don’t head down soon. You climb down the ladder first and hold it for our other friend. I climb down last with my back to the ladder. On the second to last step, I’m standing in between your arms, face to face with you, because you’re still holding the ladder. I look at you, waiting for you to move so I can step down. You look at me, and hold your arms steady for a few seconds longer than necessary. I think I see something in your eyes…could it be? No. No way. Not possible. You’re way out of my league.

“Hurry up!” says our other friend.

You move your arms, I step down, and just like that, the moment is over.