I guess I felt robbed.
I mean, turning 16 is a huge deal,
Or maybe I just wanted it to be.
I look back on it now,
and I wish it would have been a regular night.
I wish she wouldn't have been her,
I wish she wouldn't have tried to be sweet.
She could have just been one...
but being both was too much for me.
Mom was going to stop by for just a second,
long enough to wish me "Happy Birthday,"
watch me open the presents she got me,
and see me off on my very first date.
She was late.
And high as a kite.
I sat at the table and opened each gift,
becoming more and more angry with each tear of the paper.
Why had she gotten me everything I asked for?
How had she found this limited edition album?
What kind of game was this?
She sat across from me,
with a goofy drunken smile-
knowing that she had given me the perfect birthday.
I stared at her,
as tears welled up in my eyes
I clenched my jaw and through my teeth said
"this isn't fair."
Helping her into the passenger seat of her car,
I buckled her seat belt,
double checked to make sure she was completely in,
then slammed her door as hard as I could.
As I drove her home-
my knuckles whitened from clenching the wheel,
Mom began to cry.
She sobbed that she thought she got me what I wanted.
She cried apologies for not being enough.
She tearfully questioned my reaction.
I concentrated on the snowy roads.
Pulling into her driveway,
the tires spun on the thick ice.
I turned off the car,
helped Mom out of the car and into the house,
still not saying a word.
Walking into the kitchen
I stood at the counter,
feeling my heart pound harder and harder
as I stared at the open prescription bottles on the stove.
I refused to cry.
I refused to yell.
I swallowed the anger.
I ignored the pain.
I waved goodbye,
and walked out the door.
I walked home in the snow storm,
feeling the tears nearly freeze on my face.
I stopped and punched a snow bank
I guess to somehow to tell the universe
That I knew my mom had tried,
but that she somehow had missed the point.