I remember sitting cross-legged on the couch and watching TV, in the zone, and feeling eyes on me.
Why did she stare at me so much?
“Nothing, I just like looking at you.”
Weird, I thought, why did my mother look at me so much, so annoying. Doesn’t she have somewhere else to be?
Always squeezing in a hug, a touch, a stare.
Didn’t she understand I wanted to be alone?
Her hair fell from her face and dipped into her cereal, the tight braid at the back failing to hold the front pieces in place.
I reached over and pulled the stragglers behind her ears and watched will a full heart as she ate her breakfast.
I created her.
Would she ever understand how much I loved her?
“Why are you staring? “
“Why do you stare at me so much?”
I could hear the words eco in my ears from 20 years before and see my mother sitting across from me.
Suddenly I understood.
“Because I love you so very much.”
“It’s rude to stare, you said so”
“So is talking with your mouth full.”
Opening her mouth she spat all of the food out into the bowl and looked up at me.
No more staring for today.