"you'll never be like her"

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i truly do love my mother. she did raise me, after all, and most of the time everything was great. her only downfall is that she can't cope with sadness. she never quite mastered that skill, no matter how hard she tried. when her and my father divorced, she locked herself in her room for days at a time, and the sound of shattering glass had become a lullaby of sorts.
this time around, alcohol became her 8 pm best friend and her 6 am enemy. it was a vicious cycle that resulted in many a night in sophia's arms. but it wasn't always like that. grace fischer is, and always has been a painfully intelligent, beautiful woman. she was as admired as she was envied, by me, and the rest of the world as well. her mind was just as lovely as her exterior, and that was something i had always wanted. i loved her for it. and maybe sometimes i hated her for it, too. maybe because i would never be like her, or maybe because she always told me i was like my father, and the fact that she no longer loved my father stuck out to me.
she was the one who encouraged me to get the job at the ice cream parlor, where i first met sophia. i had never been one for social interaction, but she insisted it was good for me and my resistance was never any good anyway. when i got the job, she hugged me tight and gave me a few sips of champagne while she sent me a wink and beamed at me with her perfect teeth. the bubbles made me nauseous, but it was okay.
and when she got the news from the doctor, she held me tight and sobbed, like there was an earthquake racking through her body. and when she started taking sips of beer, i went upstairs and fell asleep with the lights on.
after about two months of drinking her sadness away, i think it turned into something different, something i couldn't really understand. maybe it was anger. when sophia got the news that she had gotten too tipsy and things had escalated, she was the one who held me and kissed the handprint on my face while i cried. her breath didn't smell like alcohol anymore. she brushed my hair away from my face and whispered, "you'll never be like her." and whether that is a good thing or not, i still have not ascertained.

-oakley

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