This one's a doozy. I got home and checked the mail and there was an Easter card (with a letter inside, of course), from my mother. "I don't know why you didn't call me back in December..." "I felt like I'd lost both my kids, and that's not a nice feeling..." "It got harder to get through a day without crying..." Join the fucking club.

I'm sitting here, bawling my eyes out. I miss her so much, but I'm so angry that I can't even stand the thought of talking to her. The hurt goes so deep that I don't know where it even started from. On one hand, I just want to call her and say, "You're my mother. If I tell you to fuck off, you should still come back for more, to show me that you'll never leave me. And until I tell you that I don't want to talk to you, you should KEEP coming back for more." The fact that she gave up on me after one stinking phone message illustrates my feeling that she was happy to be rid of us and live her responsibility-free life, finally.

I know, I could have just as easily picked up the phone. But I was angry. I was the angry one. She was the one who should have been trying to make things right. Not me. I wasn't the one who should have been begging for forgiveness or understanding. How could she take my silence as a reason to just walk away? Why can't I do the same thing?