This is Where We Talk Things Out

by Caitlin Marceau

And while Sylvie had a bad habit of extending poison ivy disguised as olive branches, Miller had a worse habit of accepting them.

“You’re my mother, Sylvie, but you haven’t been my mom for years.”

Miller is stunned with Sylvie’s version of events, but unsurprised by it. This is what it was like growing up with her: every event, every memory, rewritten and retold to you enough times that you couldn’t help but wonder if the version you remembered was wrong. It always started with the tears she could summon on command, and ended with Miller apologising for something she never did and agreeing that Sylvie was right.

And, quite honestly, I think it says a lot about someone if they can’t love another person unconditionally unless that person’s their offspring. It’s narcissistic.”

I think you think you were a great mom, but you were selfish and you were mean and you made everything about you. Why the fuck do you think I cut you out? For fun?”