How to be Forever Alone [#Wattys2020]

54.

I spent weeks waiting to hear back from Tess, but she never responds. I assume she got my last letter, yet I'm worried something happened to it along the way. It could have fallen out of the mailman's truck or bag, and then a dog probably took it and ripped it up so now all these words I wrote are just floating through the air never to be read.

Maybe it's for the best... I don't want it to be, but something inside me is telling me that that's what the universe wanted. I think everyone believes it's going to get better, but when you're down and feel like you're buried under six feet of dirt there's just no way anything could come and pull you out. Unless, of course, that thing is possibly a shovel. I think I might need one of those right now.

I think I've known for a while that it's over, probably since the first sight of snow back in November. It's been so long since then and my candle of metaphorical hope is almost out, but that small part of me that still wishes to hear from Tess, to see her, well, it did buy her a Christmas present. It's so small but means so much and it's terrifying to try and think of what I would say to her if she decided to actually come to Flint's wedding.

Christmas itself was okay... Mom was so excited about the wedding and for once she stopped stressing about all of the preparations. My guess is that it was because Flint might have slipped a little bit of vodka into her coffee she had with her dessert. I, on the other hand, was somewhat happy to be with them, and Robin, for the first time in a while, they're quite hilarious when they make the decision to pull out the karaoke. I don't know why I didn't make myself look like a fool too. I just sat on the couch wrapped up in my thickest wool sweater and they bounced around the room putting on an entire boyband mashup concert. Maybe it's because I'm younger than them, well, much younger than my mom, and Flint. He's almost a decade older than me and it's clear that we've grown up in two completely different generations despite living under the same roof for years.

"I'm so excited for tomorrow!" my mom squeals with glee.

"Tomorrow?" I question.

"Claire," she pesters me, "your brother's wedding."

"Oh yeah," I say, realizing I'm barely still awake.

My mom and I spent all night watching movies and I guess the hours just flew by right in front of me. It was nice to finally have some time with her without anyone around.

"I can't believe Flint didn't invite you to the bachelor party," she tells me, "usually the best man plans all of it, well in this case best woman."

"Mom," I call out for her to stop talking, "I'm pretty sure they were going to go to a strip club or something. It's not really my scene."

"I didn't think it was his either," she says sitting up straighter on the couch.

"Well," I say, "I'm done talking about this. I'm going to bed."

There's no way I was going to have a conversation with my mom about what my brother likes to do when he parties with his friends.

When I get up and head towards the stairs I can see that stupid fifth-grade picture of me that I hadn't stopped to look at in a while. It was still in the same place, absolutely nothing about it was different, but so much has happened to me since I last studied it and I'm not sure if I can find the same innocence in it as I did before.

"Good night, Potato," my mom calls out to me from the couch.

My voice was low, but I still reply, "good night."

I was woken up by the sound of my mother running through the house scrambling for things. She wasn't the only one however, there must have been at least ten people from the banquet hall picking up boxes filled to the brim with our homemade decorations. It was mesmerizing to watch them move around like a synchronized group of figure skaters, while my mom seemed to barely be keeping up with them. She was already dressed in her gold knee-length dress with her shall and high heels. The stem of her footwear looked like a twig that would snap if she took one wrong step.

"Claire!" she shouts. "Why aren't you dressed?! We need to be out of here in a few hours!"

You better not roll your eyes, I know she's just freaking out and stuff, but she'll start blaming you for everything that goes wrong.

So, I start walking back up to my room, but my mother stops me dead in my tracks again.

"Where are you going now?!" she questions loudly.

I use my thumb to point towards my room, "to get dressed...?"

"You haven't had breakfast and you're not getting it all over that suit!" she argues.

I just decide to go along with whatever she says because I have no plans on being on her bad side today. So, I'm rushed off to the kitchen while I'm still wearing my bear patterned pyjamas and weaving in between movers and I sit down quickly to eat a slice of toast before heading back to my room.

My suit's hanging off of the hook on my closet door and I take in its almost pitch black colour. I've always wanted a double-breasted suit, just to feel powerful, at least I hope it makes me feel powerful. The crystals that were used for buttons glistened in the light coming from outside my bedroom window and on my bureau was the box holding my matching cufflinks for my shirt. It took me a few minutes to figure out how to put it all on, I had never worn anything like it before.

To avoid getting sore feet too early, I opted with just carrying my heels until it was absolutely necessary for me to slip them on. Hopefully, that wouldn't be for a while.

I finally join my mother downstairs. She's seeing everyone out the door and takes in a large breath falling back on the balls of her feet rather than supporting herself on her toes.

"You kids are going to kill me one day," she says.

"Sure," I giggle.

"Well," she continues, "we better get you over to Flint's."

"To Flint's?" I question.

"To get your hair done," she states blatantly. "Have you really not been paying attention for the last two months?"

I felt a little insulted, "what's wrong with my hair?!"

I guess I had absolutely no say about what my hair was going to look like because instead of getting a nice blue rose in my lapel like everyone else, I pretty much got a bouquet in the bun at the back of my head.

"Why did I agree to this?" I ask in front of my brother's side of the wedding party and my mom.

All the men in the room laugh, but I could tell my mom just wanted to swat me instead. She definitely restrained herself, not wanting to destroy the apparent masterpiece stuck in between the strands of my hair.

I was lucky not to get too much makeup placed all over my face. Just some eyeliner, mascara and light pink lip gloss.

"Awe, you look beautiful, darling," my mother tells me.

I roll my eyes for the first time today as I say, "yeah right."

"She's not lying," Flint chimes in, putting the final touches on his tuxedo.

My mother instantly drags me by the arm to the bathroom so that I can see myself in the mirror.

Okay... Maybe she's right.