Simply Sinful (Boyxboy)

1) My Mother the Whore

My mother danced to whatever music she heard in her head. I watched as she twirled around the living room, a lamp clutched tightly to her chest. Her blue eyes bore into when she caught me watching her every movement. She held out her hand, beckoning to me. I glanced back down to the book I held in my hands. I tried to focus on the words on the page.

I heard a sigh then the placing of the lamp in one of the dozens of boxes that littered the floor. I did my best to ignore the click clack of her heels my mother wore as she walked across the hardwood floor. A shadow fell over the page I was attempting to read. I refused to look up and acknowledge that women. It was a test of wills to see who would last the longest.

A game we played on so many occasions. The score so far was a million to zero, give or take a few. My mother winning every time. Today will be my first victory in the many to come. I will not lose. No, I refuse to. My mother tapped her feet as she waited for me to give in. Next came the loud sighs. I could imagine her standing there, her arms crossed, her eyes glaring down on me.

"Another battle lost," I whispered to no one in particular. I placed the book I was reading on the cushion beside me and stood. My mother smiled brightly, taking my hand.

"I knew you wouldn't let your Mama down. You're such a good boy." She kisses me on my cheek before grabbing me around my waist. "You look so much like your father. Did you know that?" My mother smiles again. How could I know whether or not I look like a man I have never met? From what I know their relationship was over long before I came into the picture, but that's not what she wants to hear. It's a rhetorical question.

Soon she'll be telling me how my black hair is perpetually messy looking no matter how much you brush. Just like his was. How his gray eyes held so many secrets like mine were known to do. My mother likes to go on and on about the love she was never able to have. My eyes look up at her. Her blue eyes are becoming misty as they stare off into oblivion.

"Oh well," she says. My mother hums a melody as she spins me around. The humming soon become a song I've heard too many times by now. "Love is worth living for. Love is worth dying for. How can you tell if it's real? How can you tell if it's wrong?" I tried to avoid my mother eyes as we dance. Despite my best try, I can see the far away look. The look that says she'll do whatever it takes to make this new relationship work.

She's scheming, plotting out her plan of attack. My mother the idiot. If love is what she wants then why not find a man that's available? Why look for a relationship that will really work? It's because the relationship isn't what she really wants. She wants someone to know the pain she felt when the man who claimed he loved her left. When, the man who said he wanted to marry her and be a family with her abandoned her. When, the man who is responsible for my existence betrayed her.

My mother only wants the kind of love that comes when she's making someone suffer while their families are breaking apart. I'll never be happy because of that. So many times I've given up on having friends because I knew that it wouldn't last. That it was pointless. My feet stop moving on their own accord.

"What's wrong," my mother ask.

"This is stupid." The words slip past my lips.

"What is?" I look up at my mother and gesture to the boxes strewn about.

"Everything! All of this. Why can't you just get a job and stop relying on these...these old men that can't even get it up without a little pill? I just want a normal life, filled with boring things. I want to hangout with friends. I want..." My mother places her hands on both sides of my face and peers into my eyes. What feels like minutes have clicked away. She searches my eyes for an answer that she only knows the question to.