So wasn't really thrilled with either thing I wrote last week, but at least I'm writing!
Prompt: Dear Mom
Do you remember that pool party you and dad were hosting when you dove into the pool, fully clothed to rescue the doll I pitched into the deep end on a whim when I was three? I wanted to see if she could swim, you wanted to prevent a future meltdown when I no longer had her to cuddle to sleep.
Every observant, I’m still not sure how you noticed I had thrown it in when you were over on the other side of the backyard talking to Mrs. Cress. But there you came out of nowhere to leap into the pool to rescue Masiey, causing quite the stir as all the guest turned to look at the commotion.
Admittedly, I did know better than to throw her into the pool. You had warned me not to throw my toys into the pool after the incident with the barbie, and that one time with the princess crown. They always sink to the bottom and get stuck in the filter on the floor of the deep end, and then dad has to call in a guy and something about money.
Rightly so you were furious at me. I got dragged into the house with not a word spoken. We marched upstairs so you could get changed. I had to sit on the bed, not saying a word, while you asked me why I couldn’t just listen, why I always had to do the one thing I was told not to do. I had no answer, and I don’t think you really wanted me to answer.
Maybe one day I’d have a child and that child wouldn’t listen to me, you went on lecturing me, and how would I feel if that child did something like this. I don’t know if you really wanted an answer or if you were just letting off steam but I understand now.
Oh yes, I understand now, as I chase my son, around the house trying in vain to get my stuff back from him. This child doesn’t care that the file he’s holding is important or that the phone is expensive. He doesn’t care, he just likes to make me chase him.
Mom, I’m sorry.
Prompt: The last piece of the puzzle
I had spotted the red flags shortly after we had matched on the dating site. He was good looking so of course, I had swiped right, not expecting anything more when the screen changed to say we had matched. Scrolling his profile, I noticed while he did have information, it was all pretty vague. I crafted a witty opening line and hit send. He replied back almost instantly and before long we had an easy exchange going.
After a few days of messaging over the app and we had a coffee date planned. It was my go-to, choice for a quick meet. As always my friend was ready on standby for the emergency call in case things weren’t going well. We ended up not needing it when just an hour before the date he messaged that a family issue had come up and he couldn’t make it. He was sorry and we would definitely reschedule. Life happens, it was okay.
Then it became a thing, we’d make plans and he’d bail or he would go silent. He’d apologize and call and we’d talk and I’d somehow not notice the large red flag flapping in my face. I should say flags because there were more and I just kept ignoring them for the easy conversation, the hey beautiful good morning texts, and all the little things I had been missing from a relationship.
Why was I still talking with this man who clearly must be hiding something? A random conversation with a cousin lead me to that last piece of the puzzle. The piece that held the clue to unraveling this man, the mysteriousness of him being the draw that I couldn’t turn away from. The line, “wait, I know him, isn’t he married?”
My sleuthing fingers got to work and using social media and public records I found her, his wife, and their two kids. One heated confrontation, good long cry, and a pint of ice cream later, I picked up my phone and started to swipe again.
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