Unknowing Attraction

1. Mother, Oh Mother.

I lay in my bed, staring up at the textured ceiling above me. The sounds of cars racing back and forth, the only sound filling my the room. The warmth and softness of my blankets the only sensation I can feel. The only light being that of the Christmas lights my mom gifted me for my room. Everyone else had LED strips, but I loved the authenticity of the warm, white light that Christmas lights offer.

I check my phone and see no notifications. I have lived a pretty lonely life up until now, and even then, loneliness fills the empty spaces of my mind. I don't really have friends- I spend most of my days on my laptop, doing homework or watching Hulu on my TV. I was going to go to school on campus, to "indulge in the college experience" as my mom would say, but I've never been one to party or socialize. Even in high school, I would rather read a book than go be the football teams next victim. Which, I always understood wasn't the reason people party, obviously. But I'd rather fill the hole in my heart with snacks and wine, in the comfort of my own home, rather than spend time with people who don't ask how you're doing, but instead "where can I find a bump?"

If only she were here. My mom, being the only true friend I've felt I had, other than my older sister of course. My sister just likes to party a lot, whereas when I'd spend time with my mom, we would watch as many of the Harry Potter movies as we could before passing out on the makeshift bed we'd set up on the floor.

I go to my voicemail, clicking her name. Her voice rings through my phone speakers, my eyes immediately filling with tears as she spoke. "I'm so proud of you, honey. I love you." her voice soft, like a nice fur coat that you can't wait to wear during the winter.

-click-

Her words echoed, slicing through the loud silence that followed her melodic voice. Tears run down my face as I remember how it had felt to hug her. How it felt to laugh with her. All the times as a little kid I'd get sick, she'd be right there to watch the Phantom of the Opera with me while eating blueberry muffins and drinking tea. The mornings she'd help me get ready for school- the nights she would tuck me in and kiss my forehead, wishing sweet dreams to visit me.

It's been a year, but it feels like just yesterday. She was the only one I ever spoke to, really. She was my only friend for most of my life. Her hazel, gentle eyes peering into my soul as I spoke on things I'd felt so passionate about, lighting up with every word I spoke. Her bell like laugh that accompanied mine. She thought I was the funniest person ever. She always saw so much in me that I couldn't really see in myself. My mom was the only light in this dark, cruel world.

I never dealt well with the idea of death, and as I've gotten older, that hasn't changed a single bit. Death felt less like a friend and more like a predator with every year that passes. Stalking and waiting for me to slip up so it can take me, unsuspecting. Death feels less like a visitor and more like a giant wave, waiting to pull me into it's depths.

I press play on the voicemail again, my body shaking aggressively as I sobbed to the sound of her sweet voice, telling me how much I mean to her. Words I will never hear again, unless I keep pressing play. We would always joke that I would be the auntie with 12 cats and a bottle of wine to keep me company. But what if that isn't the case? What if I fall in love, and decide to get married someday? She won't be there to cheer me on as I walk down the aisle.

The loneliness seeped in through every pore of my body, goosebumps raising as I realized that all those beautiful moments are just memories that will fade as time goes on.

The loss of hope drawing in with every shaky breath I took, my lungs feeling like they've suddenly filled with water.

Mother, oh mother. Where art thou?