She stares at me and I shift uncomftorably.
You look great.
I sigh, Gained some weight though
She pauses, cocks her head to one side Yes, but dont worry dear, youll lose it again soon.
Not very comforting. I play with the frayed edges of my jeans. The silence swallows me whole.
Feel good to be home? she asks, and the pleading question doesnt allow me any leeway to misdirect the truth.
Gee mom, I dont know. Its weird to come home and have to deal with you hovering over my shoulder all the time when I have to admit I sort of got used to putting a whole ocean between us and living with my best friend in a city where I can do whatever I want and spend the entire day drunk.
Instead I just smile tightly, Just a little jet-lagged.
She looks me over again, this time a little more critically, frowning slightly. We are looking more and more alike every time I see her; the messy hair, disheveled mismatched clothes, chubby stomach..that weird mix of self-conscious extroversion that manifests itself through talking a lot without saying anything.
The house is freezing and I feel goose-bumps rising under her judgmental, curious eyes Hannah will be happy to see you, at least. Maybe things will be different between you two now. She says she talked to you a lot after Colin dumped her.
My sister and I, who have never previously gotten along, managed to bond overseas by lamenting over our horrific love-lives. My sister has a weird speech impediment; thinking about it reminds me of my other flat-mate in London, who although I never got along with, I suddenly miss desperately. Not a good sign.
Yea, I got her a cool present, I say, and then, since this conversation isnt really flowing along, I add, uh, its a shirt.
My mother beams. She has high hopes for me reviving my little sisters interest in life. I have tried telling her that at 16, theres not much hope when you lose your virginity only to get dumped two days later. Drugs are probably the best way to go for her right now, but I dont add that Hannah and I have already made a date to smoke pot for her first time.
This. House. Is. So. Fucking. Cold. I cough and hock up something yellow. Wonderful.
Tell me a story about London! my mom says, a little too enthusiasticly, leaning over and brushing my gross hair out of my face, tell me the most interesting thing you learned.
Um.Jack the Ripper sent pieces of his victims kidneys to a vigilante group, with a note saying he ate the other half of it. He also pulled out the intestines of a prostitute and then put her hand into her stomach holding the organs, like an ironic attempt to make it look like a suicide. Uh..he had a weird sense of humor.
You learned this in class?
Sort of. I reply. I am about to elaborate, but realise this story is going to lead into another one, which will require a lot more explanation. Suddenly feel the weight of the entire semester crash around me, on my shoulders, neck, legs. I had felt so pinned under by the workload, the drama. But its nothing compared to this lack of everything, this nothingness of being back home and trapped. For the first time in my life, I have no plans, at least for the next two months. As of yet, no winter term project, no job, no money, and no place to live. Or rather, two places to live, but no home. I feel so lost, like the best part of my life just happened and I was too busy to realize it.
Do you want to lie down honey? she asks, concerned. You look upset. Dont worry, youll lose the weight again.
Its not that. Not all of it, anyway. I avoid her eyes, wrap my arms around myself and stare straight ahead. I want to go back, back on the tube station, back to a pub, back to Barcelona. Back to knowing exactly the kind of person I was.
Are you planning to see Nathan again during break? Whenever I get upset, my mom assumes its about a boy. Usually a good guess, but shes still laboring under the impression that since my boyfriend last semester and I never officially broke up, that we are still dating. That my current unhappiness is due to my fear that hes found someone new in Chicago while I spent my entire semester abroad pining away from him. Shes only partly right.
We just sit there some more. This reminds me of something else. Just being so uncomfortable in my own skin, like this body belongs to someone else. Earlier on, when I had gotten home, I had logged onto my computer and saw these photos of me taken before I left. I looked skinny, with a flat stomach and bright eyes, showing off my new tattoos and smiling. Like I owned the world and all the people in it, like I was a movie star, about to jet-set my way into a foreign country and be adored by exotic boys. I was too good for it here. Now I just feel like a failed experiment; Ive lost my permission to live on my own and be a grownup. Im back to being sixteen again. Of course my sister and I will get along. We are at the same age now.
My mom gets up to hug me and I tense up. I feel awful doing it, but being touched is not what I want right now.
Well get you a haircut first thing tomorrow, she sing-songs, and take you to the doctor to get this cough checked out. She tries to look happy to see me, but I know that my coldness is hurtful. She wants me to be more upset, to cry in her arms, like the after the first semester I came home from college and Ben had broken up with me. For a second, I almost wish I had a broken heart to explain how I feel.
And dont worry about the weight dear. Now that youre home, it will melt right off. She walks out of the room, humming loudly to block out the silence I have created in my homecoming.
Sure, I say to the empty, cold, room, melt right off.
You look great.
I sigh, Gained some weight though
She pauses, cocks her head to one side Yes, but dont worry dear, youll lose it again soon.
Not very comforting. I play with the frayed edges of my jeans. The silence swallows me whole.
Feel good to be home? she asks, and the pleading question doesnt allow me any leeway to misdirect the truth.
Gee mom, I dont know. Its weird to come home and have to deal with you hovering over my shoulder all the time when I have to admit I sort of got used to putting a whole ocean between us and living with my best friend in a city where I can do whatever I want and spend the entire day drunk.
Instead I just smile tightly, Just a little jet-lagged.
She looks me over again, this time a little more critically, frowning slightly. We are looking more and more alike every time I see her; the messy hair, disheveled mismatched clothes, chubby stomach..that weird mix of self-conscious extroversion that manifests itself through talking a lot without saying anything.
The house is freezing and I feel goose-bumps rising under her judgmental, curious eyes Hannah will be happy to see you, at least. Maybe things will be different between you two now. She says she talked to you a lot after Colin dumped her.
My sister and I, who have never previously gotten along, managed to bond overseas by lamenting over our horrific love-lives. My sister has a weird speech impediment; thinking about it reminds me of my other flat-mate in London, who although I never got along with, I suddenly miss desperately. Not a good sign.
Yea, I got her a cool present, I say, and then, since this conversation isnt really flowing along, I add, uh, its a shirt.
My mother beams. She has high hopes for me reviving my little sisters interest in life. I have tried telling her that at 16, theres not much hope when you lose your virginity only to get dumped two days later. Drugs are probably the best way to go for her right now, but I dont add that Hannah and I have already made a date to smoke pot for her first time.
This. House. Is. So. Fucking. Cold. I cough and hock up something yellow. Wonderful.
Tell me a story about London! my mom says, a little too enthusiasticly, leaning over and brushing my gross hair out of my face, tell me the most interesting thing you learned.
Um.Jack the Ripper sent pieces of his victims kidneys to a vigilante group, with a note saying he ate the other half of it. He also pulled out the intestines of a prostitute and then put her hand into her stomach holding the organs, like an ironic attempt to make it look like a suicide. Uh..he had a weird sense of humor.
You learned this in class?
Sort of. I reply. I am about to elaborate, but realise this story is going to lead into another one, which will require a lot more explanation. Suddenly feel the weight of the entire semester crash around me, on my shoulders, neck, legs. I had felt so pinned under by the workload, the drama. But its nothing compared to this lack of everything, this nothingness of being back home and trapped. For the first time in my life, I have no plans, at least for the next two months. As of yet, no winter term project, no job, no money, and no place to live. Or rather, two places to live, but no home. I feel so lost, like the best part of my life just happened and I was too busy to realize it.
Do you want to lie down honey? she asks, concerned. You look upset. Dont worry, youll lose the weight again.
Its not that. Not all of it, anyway. I avoid her eyes, wrap my arms around myself and stare straight ahead. I want to go back, back on the tube station, back to a pub, back to Barcelona. Back to knowing exactly the kind of person I was.
Are you planning to see Nathan again during break? Whenever I get upset, my mom assumes its about a boy. Usually a good guess, but shes still laboring under the impression that since my boyfriend last semester and I never officially broke up, that we are still dating. That my current unhappiness is due to my fear that hes found someone new in Chicago while I spent my entire semester abroad pining away from him. Shes only partly right.
We just sit there some more. This reminds me of something else. Just being so uncomfortable in my own skin, like this body belongs to someone else. Earlier on, when I had gotten home, I had logged onto my computer and saw these photos of me taken before I left. I looked skinny, with a flat stomach and bright eyes, showing off my new tattoos and smiling. Like I owned the world and all the people in it, like I was a movie star, about to jet-set my way into a foreign country and be adored by exotic boys. I was too good for it here. Now I just feel like a failed experiment; Ive lost my permission to live on my own and be a grownup. Im back to being sixteen again. Of course my sister and I will get along. We are at the same age now.
My mom gets up to hug me and I tense up. I feel awful doing it, but being touched is not what I want right now.
Well get you a haircut first thing tomorrow, she sing-songs, and take you to the doctor to get this cough checked out. She tries to look happy to see me, but I know that my coldness is hurtful. She wants me to be more upset, to cry in her arms, like the after the first semester I came home from college and Ben had broken up with me. For a second, I almost wish I had a broken heart to explain how I feel.
And dont worry about the weight dear. Now that youre home, it will melt right off. She walks out of the room, humming loudly to block out the silence I have created in my homecoming.
Sure, I say to the empty, cold, room, melt right off.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
demoncleaner70:
Happy Holidays! Unfortunatley sacasm does not travel well across the wrtten page. The vacation is over and the world just bitch slapped you back into reality if you are open to advice here it is you have power of choice in where you live and who you want to be and that opportunities will come be brave and grasp them and move beyond your family keep Barcelona in your head and not to be selfcentered but look out for yourself.
silencenoir:
happy new year 