Tunnel Vision

Imagine standing there...

She was sitting there alone, in the street corner coffee shop. The heat from the hot coffee mug warming her cold hands. A smile is crooked on her face. She's not quite sure if she should smile or cry. A girl and her mother were sitting at the table behind me having an argument. They are arguing about the little girl not being able to go to the football game. The little girl feels it's completely unfair, that her mother is just doing it to ruin her life.

She thinks to herself, I've been there, but I hope this fight ends better than ours. Of course, it's her mother she's thinking of. Remembering that moment when she said the one thing she would regret for the rest of her. It will always bring her sadness and anger. Anger, at the fact that she picked that moment to be cruel and ungrateful.

In her head, tunnel vision has taken over. Like sliding into an internal camera lens that extends way too far. She's 14 years old again. Standing in the living room with her mother. She doesn't hear a word her mother is saying. All she can think of is how she never gets to do anything, life is so unfair. She begins yelling through the heated argument. Her face a bright red from all of the blood rushing into her cheeks as her blood pressure rises. Her heart feels like it could beat right out of her chest at any moment.

"How come she gets to do whatever she wants", referring to her older sister, "She gets to go to every thing, she gets the yearbook, she gets it all! And I'm here every day doing homework, sweeping, vacuuming, helping to fry pork chops in the hopes that you will find some tiny kindness and think to yourself, Oh well maybe just this once... WHY DO I BOTHER!"

She turns to leave, pauses, takes a deep breathe. She looks back at her mother, tears rimming her eyes. A soft whisper of anger escapes her mouth in one breathe, "I really hate you and I hope you get hit by a truck on your way to work". She doesn't have to look to see the hurt on her mother's face, she can feel a piece of her innocence slip away. Her mother takes a withered breathe to try not to cry, but the tears were already staining her checks.

She pulls back from the memory. What were we even arguing about? I can't even remember. Recoiling inside from the disgust, she crinkles her face as if in physical pain. She's still asking herself, What have I done? What the hell did I do? She knows deep down, she'd never forgive herself for that. What kind of a person does that to their mother, after all. Me! She was taught to forgive as you would want to be forgiven. I don't deserve it.

At what point, does she forgive herself. No words will ever be enough. No acts of kindness, or purchases will ever be enough. Saying sorry will never be enough. She will never deserve it.

She will apologize every chance she gets even if her mother forgave and forgot. Even if she doesn't remember it happening, although I don't how anyone could ever forget that type of pain.

I can never apologize enough Mother. I will never forgive myself. I'm so sorry I didn't learn sooner, that I didn't look outside of me. I will apologize but I will never ask for forgiveness. You didn't deserve that from me, ever. You never deserved it.

Her eyes avert as her mom walks in to the coffee shop. Her mom walks over and leans in for a quick hug. She squeezes her mother and whispers, "I'm sorry Mom. I love you."

Her mom looks at her with a scrunched nose as if she smelled something like garbage in the air. Her mom says, "Are you okay over there, and where's my coffee?"

She shakes her head slightly and smiles up at her. Locking eyes with her mom, knowing they are teary, she slides the other cup over to her.

I'm sorry Mom. I love you.