Faith’s Letters to Her Mother: REASONS
REASONS
Audio
Dear Runaway Mother:
I swore on a stack of bibles I would never let myself be the other woman. I always thought I had too much self-respect. But here I am in my office at 9:30 in the evening waiting for him to sneak out of the house and call me back. How desperate is that!
Alright, runaway mother, I hear you saying: Give me three good reasons why you should stay in this relationship. I’m game. Here goes:
One. I just consummated the end of a seven year relationship by signing the separation agreement. I don’t want to be alone right now. It doesn’t matter that this relationship may have an expiry date. It’s propping me up emotionally until I get my act together.
Two. I’m under a shit-load of pressure right now. I’ve gone way out on a limb with the Rave Series. Youth Voice’s reputation is on the line and what I believe in passionately is being threatened. So I really don’t have the time or the energy for all the baggage that comes with a serious relationship. I just need a man to keep me grounded.
Three. I’m having trouble closing the book on Blane. He’s certainly not helping with his ridiculous marry me routine. Maybe I bailed too early but what’s done is done. Being in a new relationship – even one that can’t go the distance – keeps me moving ahead.
So there you go. My three good reasons – or two and a half at least. But truth be told there’s something else. Something about being with him that I can’t quite wrap my mind around. I thought it was the forbidden fruit thing but it’s not. It’s something more complex and it intrigues me. Whatever it is I don’t want to let it go until I figure it out.
But back to you. I looked at the pictures today, runaway mother. Now I know what you look like. It was you I spied on at Holt Renfrew. FYI. I don’t think I look anything like you except maybe a bit around the eyes.
You look happy in the photos and I have to admit that irks me. Have you put me out of your mind completely? No regrets at all? I know you have two other children and a husband. But I’m your flesh and blood. Your first born. I rate at least an occasional tear, don’t I? Or am I really that hard to love?