Earlier today, my new housemate, Seamus said to me, -did you call your one?
-Did you call your mum?
And I stuttered and then laughed and said no, I didn't.
My mum died when I was little. To be able to type that is an improvement but it's all I needed to say to Seamus. Instead, I actually ran and hid in my room.
I don't know why I act like this? But it's selfish and it serves no purpose. It's not like it respects her memory; I can hardly remember her and I rarely, rarely think of her. But I'm afraid if I normalise her death and get on and grieve her, it'll take away my license to behave like someone in Dawson's Creek. This behaviour is all I have left of her.
I really don't want to post this.