Kinsley: Stupid Little Tramp

I didn't sleep well Tuesday night.  I couldn't.  I was too busy vacillating between being mad at myself for losing so much control this weekend and being mad at myself for being so awful to Damien.  I truly didn't want to be awful to him, but I needed him to know that I needed a little space in no uncertain terms.  If I had just told him I needed some space, I was worried he'd just show up anyway.

He'd done that the one night when we were fighting and he ran into Cole in the process.  Ugh.  That was a shit show.  I wasn't interested in a repeat--not that I was planning on having Cole over.  I hadn't even talked to Cole since maybe about a week or so after Damien and I had gotten back together.  Once he couldn't fuck me anymore, he'd lost all interest in even bothering to be a friend.  Too bad, because I could have used his brand of brutal honesty right now, but don't worry...I wasn't going to open that can of worms.

I texted Liv on Wednesday morning and asked if she wanted to go to the gym with me after work.  She replied right away that she'd love to, and I turned my attention to my work.

I tried to focus, but it didn't work very well.  I worked through lunch to leave a little early and met Liv at the gym at a little after 5.  I had hardly seen her since she got married because our schedules just hadn't matched up.  Everyone was so busy lately.  "Hey married lady!" I greeted her with a grin.

She laughed and grinned back.  "Hi!" she replied cheerfully.  "It has been seriously too long since we've worked out together."

"It's been seriously too long since we've done anything together," I pointed out.

"That's true," she agreed.  "So how have you been?"

I hesitated a split second too long and she cocked an eyebrow curiously.  "Not the best," I said honestly.  I imagined that Liv was probably a pretty good therapist, because she managed to look interested and sympathetic without looking like she felt sorry for me.  I shrugged and gave her the Cliff's Notes version.  "My mom was in the hospital for a couple days.  I don't really get along with my family, so it was pretty shitty.  I kind of lost it at the hospital, and then really lost it at home.  Damien was there, and...I don't know.  I kind of freaked out yesterday about it all."

If Liv was surprised by any of that, she didn't show it.  "What do you mean, freaked out?" she asked.

"I may or may not be completely avoiding Damien," I admitted miserably.  I had no real idea why I was telling Liv any of this, but it wasn't awful.

"You don't seem happy about that," she said.

"I'm not," I groaned.  "But I'm also not happy about completely losing it either.  I don't do well with that."

Liv shrugged and switched spots on the bench with me.  "What if you just acknowledged that you're uncomfortable with what happened and you're trying to figure it out?"

I sat up and looked at her, perplexed.  "Like, just tell him that I'm being weird?  And that I know I'm being weird?"

"Sure," she replied.  "Then at least he knows that you're not upset with him.  You're not, right?  It doesn't sound like you are."

"I'm not," I agreed.  "I don't think so.  I don't know for sure, I guess.  I sort of feel like he wants to fix me."

"Fix you?  Or fix the shitty things that are happening right now?  There's a huge difference.  He loves you, he's going to be upset when bad things happen in your life."

I opened my mouth, then shut it again.  It sounds really, really fucking stupid, but I hadn't even considered that.  Fixing was fixing was fixing in my head, but as soon as Liv mentioned that, I realized that there was indeed a big difference.  "Well..." I said.  I gave up and just shrugged.

Liv smiled, then asked, "Is your mom okay?"

"Yeah, she'll be fine," I replied.  "She's out of the hospital now.  I'm going to go see her after this, I think."

Liv let me change the subject, and we chatted about lighter topics for the rest of our workout.  It was awesome to catch up with her and have a workout buddy, so we scheduled another workout next Wednesday.  I took a quick shower, got dressed, and then called my mom from the car.  She didn't answer, but I drove towards her house anyway.

When I got there, I saw that the light in her living room was on.  I parked my car and knocked on the door.  After several seconds, I heard movement inside.  The blinds twitched, then I heard the click of the lock and the door opened.  "Kinsley," my mom said; not quite a greeting.

"Hi, Mom," I replied.

"What do you want?" she asked snottily.

"To visit you.  Can I come in?"

"I guess," she said.  She moved out of the way so I could slip past her, then she shut and locked the door behind her.

My mom's house was small and seriously needed some updates, along with some repairs.  It was not in the best neighborhood either, but she refused to move.  "No Damien?" she asked sulkily, peeking around me as though I was somehow hiding him.

"He's working," I lied smoothly.

"You should bring him here when he's not working," she replied.

I shrugged and said, "I'll see what I can arrange."

"Neither of you come visit me," she complained.

"You're right," I acknowledged.  "I haven't been visiting you much lately, and that sucks.  That's why I've been to see you twice in the last three days."

"But you didn't bring Damien with you either time," she pointed out.

"Damien also isn't related to you," I replied through gritted teeth.  This was going well.

"Is that much different than you?  You wish you weren't related to me."

I squeezed my eyes shut briefly and took a deep breath.  "That's not true," I said, trying my best to keep my voice calm.

"Oh, don't lie to me," she snapped.  "I'm your mother and I can tell.  You don't care about me anymore.  You wouldn't have been too terribly broken up if I had died.  Why are you even here?"

I gaped at her.  "What, exactly, do you expect from me?" I asked.  "You barely took care of me when I was growing up.  You blame me for everything that's gone wrong in your life.  You take every opportunity now to take cheap shots at me and be passive aggressive.  And you're creepily obsessed with my boyfriend on top of it!"

She snorted.  "He's an incredibly good-looking man, or haven't you noticed?  I very much enjoy seeing him."

"Yes, I've noticed!" I exclaimed.  "But he's my incredibly good-looking man and what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Don't you talk to me like that," she scolded me.

I couldn't help it.  I laughed.  I burst into laughter and I couldn't stop.  My mom glared at me.  "I don't know why I keep trying," I said when I finally got it together.  "Every time I see you, I want so badly for you to have changed.  Every time, I realize I'm an idiot for being hopeful.  I've spent my entire life desperately wanting you to love me unconditionally and to want to have a relationship with me.  But the only thing you want is to make me just as miserable as you are.  I just can't keep doing this."

"Is that a threat?" my mom asked, raising her eyebrows in warning.

"No," I replied truthfully.  "It's a white flag.  I surrender.  I quit.  If you ever decide that you want to work on our relationship, call me.  If you truly want to fix it, I'll put the past out of my head and just move forward.  But for now, I need to just be done."  I turned and crossed back to the door.

I was halfway out when she screamed, "You'll regret everything, you stupid little tramp!"  I took a deep breath and just continued out, starting to pull the door closed behind me.  Something crashed against the wall just a foot from my head before I got all the way out, but I just finished shutting the door and walked to my car.  

When I got to my car, I took my phone out and called Damien.  He answered on the second ring.  "Did you still want to have dinner tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yes, if you'd like to," he answered immediately.

"I would."  We made plans, then I hung up and drove home.