The Diary of Existing

FIFTY ONE

"I should get back." I said, my eyes staring at her. But I refrained from expressing any emotions. I didn't want her to see a glimmer of hope, because I didn't want her to think that I was immediately changing my mind.

I wasn't. I wasn't about to think that I was wrong for blaming her. I wasn't going to start this off like some movie wherein I finally realize that she was being a good mother all this time. No, I wasn't going to start with that. There was still proof that needed to be shown, evidence of her meaning it, that she was sincere about it. Not just words, or what I could sense from those words.

"I'll get a car for you." My mother stood up from the bed, she towered over me with her heels. I didn't even realize how tall she was with her heels on.

She stood there, staring at me. As if waiting for something. What was she waiting for? Was she waiting for me to hug her? Because I wasn't going to. I don't have intentions of hugging her, I don't think she deserves to even be hugged.

"I'll wait outside." I said and walked out of the room ahead of her. I made my way down stairs, people still unaware that there was a teenage girl amongst them in uniform. They were still busy up on each other's asses trying to kiss up to whoever was richer in the circle.

I waited outside, sat on the steps of the door and stared at the cars that were parked at the sides. There were drivers who were having a smoke, sitting on the hoods of the expensive cars not giving a crap whether they'd end up denting the cars at all.

I hear the door open behind me and someone sitting next to me.

"I called you a cab. Your mother's driver isn't around today." Amanda said as she linked arms with me, and by instinct I rested my head on her shoulder. She held onto my wrist as our arms were linked and she caressed it, drawing circles on them.

"I don't know what you two talked about Alex, but whatever your mother told you, take it all in. Take it in full honesty. Set aside your doubts, because I am a hundred percent sure she means every word of it." Amanda said. As if she knew what our conversations were. If Amanda had actually heard it, she'd tell me this exact thing too.

"She's been a terrible mess since the last time you saw each other. When she left for Switzerland the first time, your mother barely spoke to anyone. When I was there, she was talking to a couple of people for work, but apart from that, she just stayed inside. She didn't talk to anyone else, didn't bother to socialize with locals who had deep pockets. Your mother was lonely."

Was she lonely? But she went to Switzerland on her own accord.

"And she's been lonelier when she got back. This is the first party she has had in awhile. And she isn't even enjoying it. There's about 30 people in there who barely know what this party is for. They're just background noise. When you got here, your mother was in her library. Drinking a bottle of wine by herself, and not even greeting any of the guests. None of them have even asked for her." Amanda kept confessing these things, things she'd never even tell me because she felt my mother would kill her. Yet, here she was spilling it all.

As a black cab rolls in, Amanda turns to me. She places her cold hands on my cheeks and smiles at me. She gives me this pure smile, and it looked as if she was about to cry. Her eyes were red, and her nose was beginning to be red as well. Was she crying for my mother?

"Take care, and attend your session this Friday. It's a must that you attend, so this can all be over. And so you and your mother can be happy. The sooner this all gets resolved." Amanda says and she kisses my forehead, like she was a mother, or an older sister.

"Here." She hands me a piece of paper, with her name and a number written on it.

"I heard from the grapevine that you finally have a phone. I don't know who gave it to you, but maybe you can tell me about it soon. Maybe we can get back to talking like we used to?" Amanda said, a question mark at the end of that statement.

I found myself tearing up. It was like reconnecting with an old friend. One that I pushed away but was finally back, finally letting me realize I should've been a better friend. I smiled at her and hugged her real tight, tighter than she did earlier.

I hopped in the cab, waved from the inside and she watched as the cab disappeared from her view. I looked at the piece of paper in hand, and contemplated deeply on it. Thinking about what she said about my mother, what my mother had said too. And I felt lost in thought, as if I could no longer truly think for myself.

But, I could. I could think for myself. I could make my own decisions.

And I didn't know how ready I was for this.

I crumpled the paper, rolled the window down and tossed it to the side.

I didn't do it because I didn't care for Amanda. I did it because I cared for her. I cared for her too much to rely on her so heavily, or have to call her when I was feeling lost. I couldn't have her cradling me anymore like she did, this was a challenge in my life I should face alone.