i'm back from outer space

...i'm this highly volatile person. at dinner you told me we're going to pennsylvania on sunday, the day before my finals, because she is having surgery and she might die. and it's before my finals, she might die. she might die on a tuesday in may while i'm in history writing an essay on the significance of the korean war. and you will be there, mother, with her and the korean war won't matter. what are we going to do. me here and you there, and the rest of this family. what about her house? what about christmas, and the town and that part of our lives. are you going to buy it, or knock it down and wouldn't it be weird to be there without her, but i bet she thought that when he died. the whole town would go to the funeral. you would want me to write something, i know you. and i would but would i cry? could i cry at a funeral? just what would i write. this is the difference between shit and life. i am awful and i am a deviant of this family, i am so sorry. i should be going to church and getting a 4.0 instead of a 3.6. i should really be calling her more often and i should have never fought with her. i'm truly sorry for who i've grown into, and every inch of rebellion i've thrown on the path. i should've been a better kid.

i called her on valentine's day and i was drinking a fucking martini.
i love you.