And I keep hanging up.
The first thing she asks, nonchalantly like nothing has happened, is whether I’ve eaten yet. This is something thing she used to say at the beginning of every phone call. One of her old habits, to make sure I’m eating enough.
I didn’t answer her question, but asked what she wanted. She told me she just wanted to see how I was doing.
She doesn’t get it. I don’t want to talk to her. I never want to talk to her again. Every call is a reminder of the wounds that haven’t healed.
It’s like having your rapist show up at the door with flowers.