Larger Then ME

Prolouge/Pilot

I guess when my mom died people weren’t expecting the emotions I did had, the very little I showed. And I guess I didn’t understand why they cared. The last remaining thing I have of my mother, what she left me, a god damned letter telling me that I’m the next heir to her big empire in NY. What the hell. So I guess I still haven’t come to terms with it. I don’t feel anything, I just sit through  life day by day. Numb perhaps is how to describe the way my soul feels, heavy. My mom should’ve just left it to one of her big city executives. I mean that makes sense, right? I guess I don’t know what makes sense as of now. Like really, how do you deal with the death of your mother. It’s not like I have a spare mom in my garage, not like I can go to the mom store and pick another one up. But another thing that just makes me beyond livid. People saying they’re sorry. Or they understand. People whose mom they still have with them, they go to brunch with their mom, people much older than me. So explain to me how they can be sorry, when they don’t know a single thing about what I’m going through. It’s not as if I’m even their friends, they’re like 40, like no thanks, I’m 21. A 21 year old with no family, no boyfriend, no job. No life. This is really what life is now. Although I could have a job, but I would feel as if I’m working in death. I didn’t earn that job, my mom did. Just because she died I can swoop in and take everything she spent years on. And I have the right to do that just because she’s dead. Explain to me please because I am still lost, still praying and hoping that this is all just a dream. And I’ll wake up.

           But somehow I know that I’m never going to wake up. Because this is life and life is never fair. And I find myself boarding a plane to a city I never even wanted to visit, yet I find myself moving there, all for my dead mother. To work in death as I say. This all just seems Larger Than ME.