Chapter 19: Flashback.

A reed diffuser, and a whole shelf crowded with essential oils. I stared at them, my mind traveling, wishing I could wallow in these little things, associate them with a feminine role. The bathroom was clean and cute, full of aromatic details, and only practical because of its spaciousness.

My amygdala had been far too excited. Frustration had derived into crying. That time, it took a while to go back to baseline levels. That while, sitting on the toilet, the most private place in the house.

I had gone back to live with Satsuki for a couple months while working on my thesis. Why would I do that? I don't know.

She had moved hundreds of miles southward from Rustown. She was living in a new construction home that held absolutely no mementos from Ted. Not because such items would have produced her any grief, but because she had celebratorily erased him from her life's memories. That, assuming she had ever kept any worthy memory of him, anyway.

Even when my subconscious had predicted its failure, I had originally thought that it was a good idea to move with her for a while, as I profoundly aspired to sympathize with her and move past our lingering demons.

Not even close.

I wouldn't say that it turned out to be the diametrical opposite —as it's difficult to define a pivot center of whatever relationship I had left with her. Discussion after discussion, anger arising, quite often on her side. A beef for perpetuity.

There was definitely a change: I moved from fearing her as an authoritative figure to pitying her as a weak dud, doomed by her own borderline personality. I confirmed that all the years of pressure she had put in me weren't but a projection of her own itch to increase her perceived social standing: she seemingly had no interest vested on my happiness. Maybe that would have been obvious for someone judging from the outside. Maybe I was dragging my myopic perspective, yet I still thought that she had taken no pleasure in her destruction of my esteem —just felt nothing as for that collateral damage.

“It's not always about you.” —she was angry.

“Well,” —I scoffed— “I'm not even talking about me, I'm talking about Ted —about dad.” —my voice becoming angrier every syllable.

“Oh, Ted!” —she mocked— “The god among men. You should have seen what I saw, his constant manipulation. His workings were hidden, but I see that he got you in his team. Maybe you're not as smart as I thought.”

There. That triggered something. That was too obvious even for her. I wasn't going to take that stupid bait. I felt calm. All the anger had evaporated as it became blatant that she wanted to drag me into a state were she could take advantage of my emotions.

Her human flaws became more obvious than ever before. Hadn't I been her daughter, I would have found difficult to feel any empathy for her: she showed traits of selfishness and lack of empathy at a degree bordering the profile of a sociopath. She was opinionated. Most of what drove her was a self-absorbed perception of social status and her will to increase it. Obviously, money. She was the one with breast implants and a house that she barely could afford.

I pitied her.

Her pain. That she couldn't even afford living on the gated community she would have hoped to. That her aging facial features and her saggy boobs weren't as appealing as they had once been.

Her obliviousness. That she hadn't ever been able to love anyone —or understand the privilege of having been loved by my dad. That her life was ultimately empty and she didn't even have a family.

I wanted to pity her. It was better than the alternatives.

“I'm a human too, you know?” —she said, following my silence. She had never called him ‘dad’, and now she was trying to soil his memory.

Then she showed warmth in her voice. Tender, she continued.

“You know, Alice... he wasn't that great. I'm not going to soil his memory, I'm not going into details. But... when he was gone, who took care of everything? I did.”

I remained silent, and still. Those were the real powers I had in that conversation, and I was going to use them.

“It's very easy to be gone and remembered, but who was there for you?” —as she tried to shed a tear.

No one, Satsuki, not you either.

“You have no idea if all the sacrifices I have made for you.”

Mouth. Shut.

Maybe I didn't. Maybe I don't. Maybe I... maybe I only saw your control.. your ego... mania.

Impressively though, the neediness of her ego hadn't turned her into alcoholism. Her major evasion was to “attend social gathering and affairs” —meeting her two wanna-be-rich snobby acquaintances to criticize anyone surrounding them at so-called ‘galas’ that essentially weren't much better than glorified community bingo events.

This time, she wasn't selling them multi-level dreams. Those multi-level fallacies had ended badly. I suspected that she had to move away from Rustown because of her many social blunders while getting people to sell worthless products.

“Do you think it's... that it was easy to raise a child on my own?”

Well, you were given all the tools, and you really had no truthful interest... I guess that you just played the hand that was dealt, and considering your personality, everything had boiled down to causality.

“We're done.” —famous last words... ever spoken to my mother.

I had previously been socially isolated. You know that already. Many times —but specially those last years, going through the ordeal of the PhD. Nevertheless, this was the worst. Going back to the prison of only being able to relate to someone with whom I had ingrained issues hadn't been my best choice: I would have much rather been alone. Yes, loneliness isn't the worst alternative.

She wouldn't make the effort of understanding the weariness of my doctorate. Back under her radar, she would capriciously demand me to “just finish it already”. Yes, Satsuki. I was fully aware of the “publish or perish” and the lingering, oppressive thought of the unfinished work. It was an extremely long distance run, and I ofter felt crippled. She didn't help. Her consistently dismissive treatment reflourished a buried anger which seeds she had been sowing for a lifetime.

The following day, as promised, I moved out. It had been enough —I had to leave. And so, I left. It was that easy. Strangely, only at a subconscious level I understood it as a final goodbye to Satsuki. Bye, mother. I would never hear from her again —even though I would discover more and more details about her relationship with my dad. Most of those had been taken up into my subconscious, anyway.