One Day at a Time

Jordin Sparks was right when she sang, “Why does love always feel like a battlefield?” I’ve never felt more confused about love in my entire life. It’s been a very lonely week since I’ve gotten back from the hospital; and another very lonely week the week after I got home. I hadn’t seen or spoken to either Jenn or Joe.

Going to class hasn’t felt the same. Jenn was in two of my classes, and she hadn’t showed up for them at all. It was bad when I was bombarded by my teachers with questions of where I had been and why I looked beat up.

When I got home after a long week of questions and crap, I sat back in the large chair in my living room with a blanket. All I really wanted was to relax, when I heard my door open. My body froze instantly with my arm up to change the channel. The door closed behind the chair I was in and the footsteps followed to the side of the chair.

“Alexandria, where have you been?” My mom yelled at me and threw her jacket onto the couch next to her. “You’ve had me worried sick!”

My mother. I honestly don’t understand why she would pop in now. We haven’t spoken to each other since I started dating Erik. She said she didn’t like him. Well, that made of two of us.

“Mom,” I said in an unexcited voice as I stood up from the chair. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Alexandria,” she pulled me into a tight hug. I brought up my arms around her and lightly tapped her on the back. Her sniffles in my ear seemed real enough for me to believe that she really did care about what happened to me.

“Okay, mom, really. I’m fine,” I assured her. She pulled back from me and wiped her face.

“Sorry, dear.”

I never hated my mother, but she was never much of a mother to me. Even before I started dating Erik, she was always distant. And then, one night she had invited us over for dinner and I hadn’t seen her since that night; three months ago. I was worried why she had stopped by, especially since she was putting on this little façade.

“What are you really doing here?” I asked with my arms crossed.

“What? A mother isn’t able to come visit her own daughter? Pish posh.”

Hmm; my mother. She’s sort of a rich snob. For some reason, I was never able to give her the satisfaction of being a proud mother. I was always the disappointment. Even as a child, I couldn’t live up to her standards as hard as I tried to.

“Seriously,” I stated and walked into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee for us. She always expected coffee.

“Seriously what?” My mom asked as she seated herself in her usual seat at my small dining room table.

“Mom, the last time I saw you, you were telling me how mad you were mad at me for picking such a terrible guy to be my boyfriend. And, as much as you were right, I would’ve wished that I had you by my side during this whole ordeal; even if it meant you telling me that you told me so.”

She had a sad look on her face as I began brewing the coffee and rinsed out two mugs.

“Alexandria.”

“You know how much I hate that name. It’s Alexa now; not Alexandria.”

“Right,” she tapped the table with her long, polished finger nails. That was irritating. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, dear, I wanted to make sure that you were alright. But, I did tell you…”

“Are you being serious?!” I turned around, yelling and interrupting her. “Please tell me you are not about to tell me that you told me so.”

My eyes met hers with intensity, and I glared into them as if they were going to speak to me. Her shocked look caught me off guard for a moment, but I didn’t look away.

“Alexan…I mean, Alexa, please. I’m only saying this because…”

“Because you love me, right? If you even cared about me, then, I don’t even know,” I leaned back against the counter. “If you actually cared, then maybe I wouldn’t have ended up where I am now; my best friend not talking to me and my boyfriend in jail. Well, my ex-boyfriend.”

She had nothing to say as I turned back to the coffee pot to watch the coffee drain into the pot. It began to smell amazing, and it was probably the only thing keeping me from knocking my mother out. Or, at least that was how it felt. My mom stood up from the table and walked over to the couch to grab her purse.

“I think it best that I just leave you be,” she offered, and made her way to the door.

I didn’t stop her, although she paused before opening the door. After the moment passed, she sighed and left. If there was ever a time that I could feel grey hairs growing in, it would be then.

My mind was beginning to slowly clear up, and I figured a cup of coffee would definitely do the trick. But that just made me miss Jenn even more. Whenever we had a bad day, we would go to a coffee shop or hang out at each other’s house to talk it over. I miss Jenn, but I didn’t want to be the first one to give in and call her. We’re stubborn, and we always expect the other one to call us first. Now might be my turn to call first.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and started dialing Jenn’s number, until I figured I would rather call from my home phone and hope that she would answer. The phone rang twice before she answered.

“What do you want?” She asked with an attitude. I rolled my eyes.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Tell me something,” she started. I could see her pointing at me as if I were next to her while she said it. “Have you decided to not be such a bitch?”

“Have you decided to do the same?” I shot back at her. She was silent.

“Fine, what do you want?”

I could feel my eyes stinging slightly from the tears I was trying to hold back. She knew how I felt about my mother, and I was afraid that she wouldn’t care since we haven’t spoken to each other in the past week and a half.

“My mom came by,” I finally choked out.

I couldn’t keep the tears from flowing down my face and I’m sure Jenn could hear my sobbing because, without me even noticing it, she was at my door within ten minutes, holding me as I slid to the floor. She was always there when I needed her to be.