"This is me not talking about it," he says slow and wide-eyed, while nodding yes.
"Awesome."
My mother, six months ago trashed at my 30th birthday, telling me this time is really different. No really. She's really leaving. She's so much stronger now and she knows she can do it. Really.
Okay.
My mother finally texted me today, for the first time in three months. My insurance called their house. Mom asked if I'm okay. Haven't responded yet, likely won't until tomorrow.
Thanks for remembering that you have a daughter?
Better late than never?
Fuck both of you.