fight for me

eight: "well thanks a lot dipshit."

..................

maria.

"so call out my name. (call out my name) call out my name when, i kiss you, so gently. i want you to stay. (want you to stay) i want you to stay, even though you don't want me."
- Call Out My Name, The Weeknd

..................................................................

"Mami! ¿Donde és jugo de narajana?" I yell from the kitchen to my mama.
(mom! where is the orange juice?)

"¿Ah? ¿Porque me lo preguntas? Tu y tu hermano terminan todo lá comida en mi casa." she shouts back from the laundry room.
(ah? why are you asking me? you and your brother finish all the food in my house)

i sigh as my head hangs, i was REALLY craving some orange juice. I didn't go to school today. the grief i'm going through fluctuates in power. sometimes i can withstand it and go to school and other times i want the blanket on my bed to wrap around my body so tight, i suffocate and join my father.

i'm mentally stable...

...ish.

i don't know if it's only POC mothers, or latina mothers, but my mom refuses to be vulnerable with me. especially when it's about her. she lost the love of her life, and for the first week and a half she did not leave her room. barely ate, i could tell, she lost a bad amount of a weight and only really came out to make sure we were fed and clean and ok.

after that, she went right back to normal. started doing house work, life shit, started going to work again. i know she wasn't ready to go back. she'd come home with stained cheeks from crying and slumped shoulders. her eyes would be red and her whole face tired. although an introvert, she was always a people person. but the anti-social in her has taken over.

my mama and papa owned a small food truck when they moved here. my dad bought it with what was SUPPOSED to be for our food and clothes money and such. we did end up sleeping in the food truck for a few days, before we found a cheap motel and as our truck grew, so did money. we bought a small house and restaurant space where people eat at 'Mama & Papa's cocina de español' to this day.

it's been hard for my mom to keep working yet she does for me and marcel. she's had to go what i'm going through, but suppressed to a week.

i made myself a bowl of cereal and used as little milk possible, we go through milk fast and don't have the money to be buying it every few days now that marcel has paused fighting.

i securely tie the snowman blanket i have draped over my shoulders and grab my bowl to eat in my room.

there i watch any and every sad coming of age netflix movie i can.

2:16 pm - actually wake the frick up
2:23 pm - watch 'the half of it' (while crying)
4:37 pm- snack break
4:42 pm - watch 'the perks of being a wallflower' (also crying here)
6:56 pm - snack break while ignoring my whole family
7:04 pm - watch 'a través de mi ventana' (and u guessed it, cry, this time...about me being single)
9:48 pm - realize i've eaten all the snacks in the house...and cry.
12:00am - it's midnight. mierda.
12:01 am - watch brooklyn 99....what? i'm not a monster. (cry at jake & amy episode)
12:27 am - watch 'the fundementals of caring' (cry)
2:06 am - watch the 'pursuit of happyness'
4:55 am - question everything
3:10 pm - wake up, and do it all over again.