Poor Mom.
So as to not make a big deal of out it, which would probably happen when the woman asks if Patrick is still coming tonight.. as she’s been asking most of the week, I rather offhandedly tell her that Patrick and I have broken up this morning. She asks why, so I rather succinctly say that it is because I’m sick of him. She then immediately asks if Matthew is coming to dinner tonight. I say “yeah, he probably could, but he’s vegetarian.” “Oh, so he wouldn’t like ham, well, I can make a salad,” she says with amusement. She then adds in that certain motherly tone, “Well, at least he isn’t a million miles away.” “Yeah, but the problem is that I’m not interested in dating him,” I say to discourage further discussion… and she adds a disappointed “Oh… Well, you’ll need to find someone else then.”
Strangely supportive, the woman has been seemingly just as disgruntled about Patrick not coming down here to see me as I have been. In fact, I doubt Patrick would have even made the plans to come here today if it weren’t for her ‘demanding’ he come to visit. She then asks, as I’m walking away, “So you’re not going to make up this time?” “No, I don’t think I even want to talk to him anymore,” I reply discovering with each passing moment how phenomenally pissed off I am. That feeling will fade, though I’m not sure which new feeling will replace it.
“Oh, and you can drop the insurance on my car,” I tell her before heading to bed, finally. The only person I intend on seeing lives here in town, it’s not much difference if he drives or I do, really, no reason to bother fixing it, no reason to keep paying insurance for it, especially since it can’t take me the greater distances required to see the other people I want to spend time with.