Pricked

1

Bored

I am so utterly bored, sitting in this god-forsaken library as my mother skitters around looking for books on 'wifery" whatever that may mean. She drops large dull looking volumes on the table behind me, and I hear her mutter as she does.

"If your grandmother did this for me, I'd be so much better off." She says as she drops a copy of "Men's womanhood, Marriage, childbearing and the art of perfection." on the wooden long table I'm laying my head on. The cardigan she put me in this morning itches against my face but it's better than dust on my face. "You should be eager to learn, or at least eager to make me proud." She sneers and she discards "The fine ways of Womanly Living" and "Finding satisfaction in Satisfying."

"Mom!" I shoved the last one away from me after giving in to the pressure of having it within an inch of my nose. Not even a page in there's a graphic diagram of a woman bent over, who I hope is her husband, while he smiles. "We are not bringing this home! If Jungkook finds it on my shelf he'll tease me relentlessly."

She freezes, hand mid-reach for a magazine on staying skinny. A minor lapse in judgement is about to remind me never to remind my mother I have a boyfriend.

"When are you going to stop talking to him Mirella?" She finally says, turning on her heel. Every second between my and her comment felt like a grand wind-up for the slap in the face that question was. I stared at her, at her pin-straight hair, dark eye bags, and sharp expression.

"Why would I do that?"

"Why wouldn't you? It'll simply make things more painful when you find your respective people. Why not break up now?" She piles up the books and begins walking too

"It's fun mom. It's just for fun." I get up and follow after her.

"That's all you ever do. 'Have fun,'" she mocks my voice and drops the books on a small table next to the self-checkout scanner. "When his soulmate finds him, she will not settle for your stupid excuses." I open my mouth to answer, but give up, knowing she's right. I stare at her as she melodically scans the books. That also gets boring, so I let my mind wander. If another girl 'feels the pull of fate itself' as they say, and falls smitten with my boyfriend, what would I do? I've asked myself this a million times, but I can never be decisive. Just because she falls for him, he wouldn't feel that same level of affection until years later, being a man. Men aren't as connected to fate, because their bodies don't synchronize with the moon as ours do. But would I stay with I until I find my soulmate? That's the real question. I doubt he'd leave me for a girl he has no real feelings for, meaning it would be my choice. Staying would be cruel. Making her watch him be with me, knowing that no matter how much we were "having fun" sooner or later, he'd fall for me. That's one upper hand we have. Women may not be able to stop loving the right person, but we'll never fall for the wrong person.

"Is your brain so full that your hands have no room to help your frail mother carry your books?" My mother demanded and then dropped two books into my hands. I sigh and tow behind her as she leads me to our small black car. I slip into the front seat and begin thumping through the volume on top. "Love You to The Moon and Back-Letting Yourself Trust Fate." It's full of the basic studies we hear about in school, but, to my dismay, they contain more heartbreak and tragedies than any booklet in school has. I see one page that seems straight out of a journal, and as I examine the font I guess it might be a photocopy.

"How dare he make me his Icarus, How dare he be so beautiful, heartfelt, and lovely that I cannot help being just too close.

But no matter how many times my wings melt off, and the ocean drowns me, I will simply swim, and swim, and swim until I can fly back to him. Because how dare I be mad at him. It'd be like being cross with a flower for growing or hating the rain for ruining your hair as it waters your lawn, and fills your reservoirs. It be like hating the heat and the summer while shrinking and laughing in pools and lakes like a child. It be like hating light for getting in your eyes, as you read.. And learn. As it'd be a fool's game.