The Past is Ringing

It has been a year since you’ve last yelled at me.

Ironically,

It has been a year since you’ve last seen me.

It was your yelling

And so much more

That drove me away.

Perhaps you sense that.

Over the phone,

You have not snapped once.

You are comforting

And encouraging

And almost always

On my side.

Why?

Why couldn’t you have

Been on my side

Before?

I digress.

This version of you

Has implanted itself into my head

And I am finding it very difficult

To peel back my scabs

And tear into the bloody,

Painful,

Flesh of our past.

But I must.

I have flashbacks

And panic attacks

And anxiety

And paranoia

And strong mood swings

And suicidal thoughts

And commitment issues

And

Maybe it doesn’t

All

Tie back

To you.

But it must tie back to our history.

Our shared situations

And environments.

Our past, mommy.

So, I’m doing my best

To remember what we’ve been through.

Before the constant, static laughs

On our cellular devices.