Catharsis

It was one of those nights when she had drunk that "just one more" goblet of wine. The kind where she twirled into my bedroom like a dancer atop a jewelry box. Removing the comforter from my body, she would lift me to her chest, grab hold of one arm, and we would tango into the living room. Our laughter would join in harmony while she spun me dizzy. After our limbs grew tired, we would snuggle in for a movie. I could hear 'Dirty Dancing' playing. Last week it was 'Pretty Woman', and the time before that 'Sixteen Candles'.

"Mommmmm," I groaned. "I have school tomorrow." I threw my body to the other side of the mattress. Despite my protests, she pulled at my arm. "Come on!" she demanded sweetly, transitioning into song, "Don't you be all grumpy." But I was, so I threw a pillow at the wall and told her to "GO AWAY!" There was a long sigh that sounded like a whistle, yet kissed my forehead, and as she closed my door, I heard her say, "Just remember these moments when you miss me."

Tonight was one of those nights. It was fifteen years, 7 months, and twenty days since our last dance. And 5694 days since our last movie. Nearly two decades without you making me laugh. Almost as long as you were a mom. My chest fills with a balloon. It grows bigger yet weaker as pressure builds. It will burst without relief. I want to be close to you. Need your comfort. I drag the mask from my tear-crusted eyes, step into my sleepers to make my way to the living room. You always enjoyed 'Pretty in Pink'.