Hiatus

“I’m taking a break from life. I’m taking a break from thinking, doing, being, working, eating, drinking, socialising, flossing, dating, but not sleeping”.

“You can’t not eat!” I hear my mother in my ear.

“Yes, sure, I guess I will be eating, sheesh. What I’m trying to say mum, if that is your real name, is that I’m feeling just a bit glum and not engaged, so i’m taking a break from it all”. I knew that that was her real name, or title at least but added it in my retort for good measure.

“Well the engagement part is kind of up to you isn’t it”? She said matter of factly.

My eyes rolled at her down the phone. I hate her sometimes. No, I don’t at all. I love her all of the times, she means the world to me. There was that time when I thought I had let her down, like really let her down, and I was riddled with guilt. The kind of guilt that lives in the pit of your stomach, pulling you down into the earth no matter where you are. I was Swiss cheese with guilt sized holes. I was a pepperoni-clad slice of remorse. I had thought I was living my biggest fear, that I had lost her love. I had made her so ashamed of me for stuffing up, that she wouldn’t want anything to do with me. My friends, with kids, tell me that that could never happen. Even when they’re little shits, they still love them.

“Oh it’s hard to explain, you don’t have kids, but let’s just say that your mum’s love will be there forever, okay…”

It’s not hard to explain, people are just lazy. But, you don’t know what you don’t know, I suppose. Don’t worry, I know all of that now. Well, for the most part. I don’t want to go and test out this theory by doing something murderous, just to see whether she’d still be in my corner. I have a pretty good idea nonetheless.

I get frustrated with her sometimes though. I get frustrated that she is her own person with her own feelings and thoughts and emotions, and they’re independent to mine. Actually, I love that about her, it’s just in this instance, it’s annoying me. I’m just in an anti-mood I suppose.

I started thinking about where precisely one’s pit of one’s stomach was. I imagined mine was a dimly lit lagoon with blue walls reflecting the cool liquids of my guts. It was probably a place that housed nothing, except for the Guilts, slimy shapeless lagoon monsters so vile and grotesque to look at, they blended in with the walls of my stomach. Sometimes the Guilts would multiply over and over and over again, that there would be so many they could hardly move. That was when I was at my lowest. My mind wandered into imagining what sounds they’d make; gurgles and groans, when my mother’s voice yanked me out of my head, on a bungee cord.

“Well, what’s caused this break all of a sudden? Do you still have your job? When does your contract finish? Have you asked them if it can be extended. You'll need a job to pay rent you know that, right?”

These were just statements, none of them needed me to respond to them really. So, instead I let the air sounds come to the surface of my ears, perhaps I could add speaking with my mother to my list, I pondered.

“Okay…”

She broke first. I could always hold out in silence the longest. Still, I felt a small victory.

“…How long does this hiatus last for then? Do you think you will be available next week, I need a hand with something?”

She does this all the time, speaks in riddles and when I ask for further information i’m the antagonistic one. I have learnt it’s best to just fire off all the questions all at once, in hope of hitting a dreadnaught-sized information boat and sinking it.

“What do you need a hand with, when do you need a hand with this said thing, and or does it involve me having to clean anything up? I waited patiently to see how I fared.

“Oh, never mind!”

My pit was filling up.

“I’m sorry, i’m in a mood. What’s up? Of course I will help.”

“Well-I-had-to-have-a-test-the-other-week-and-the-doctors-said-that-the-results-weren’t-good-so-then-I-had-to-have-another-test-the-doctors-said-that-I-would-get-the-results-on-Tuesday-and-that-I-should-take-a-family-member-with-me-when-I-get-the-results.”

It all just blurted out as one long sentence. She was clearly worried.

“Okay mum, slow down, I am catching up on something that has clearly already happened and has had some further information to the lead up to that, so you will need to explain a little slower and with more details please.”

“Well…” She started again her voice was soft and shaken, but she continued through all of the details.

And just like that my hiatus was over.