then my mother tried to pick me up as i was sitting down on the ground.

You know that feeling when you know you need to spend time away from yourself?

Our mother use to feel this way.  She’s always done it best. 

Our mom would take a break from all of us and fly anywhere, across the world, for what seemed like months, but in reality it was just a few days.

How I dreaded those days.

Now that we’re old enough to understand, it seems like we’ve all grown fond of this habit for escape.

As pathetic as this may sound, I and know it’s pathetic, those nights in between would be the nights I’d stay up late and try to forget how it felt like to have her around.  I guess this happens when you love someone so much and you know they’d rather be anywhere but here.

I use to sneak into her room and steal a blouse from her perfectly coordinated closet, spray it with her fragrance, and smother my face in that blouse until I fell asleep.  I felt as though this was the closest thing to actually having her with me. 

White musk will never be a scent I’ll grow fond of. 

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