Obession, and a July 25, 1987 greeting card

A heavy wooden side table was next to my mother's favorite chair. It was a chunky thing that could have supported the weight of an adult man. While no one ever stood on it, it was the resting place for my mother's flotsam. This included stacks of open and lightly skimmed junk mail, empty mugs that once contained Nestea instant tea mixed with hot water and powdered creamer, and stacks of cheap romance novels.

My mother was obsessed with paperback bodice rippers. The covers were always the same with minor variations. Manly men and womanly women who dressed in clothes that revealed their well-appointed bulges graced every tome. If you looked at their posture, there was always a sense that these strapping men were both protecting and dominating the women next to them.

I occasionally glanced at my mother as she spent hours reading these types of books. Her face registered more emotion while engaging with them than it ever did when dealing with her husband or children. She'd smile. Her eyebrows would arch. She'd look engaged or excited. She'd frown, which was the only expression from her that we shared with the books.  

The books were my mother's obsession because they allowed her to live in a fantasy existence. She needed this to survive the harshness of her reality. If she was given the choice between living with poverty, an alcoholic husband, and the squalor of our home and envisioning herself as the comely servant woman who the handsome and wealthy lord of the manor fell in love with, she'd choose the latter.

I never read those romance novels because I spent my time weaving my own fantasy worlds to escape reality. When Tito came along, I became obsessed with him and he became my default thought any time I wasn't occupied with work or other tasks. Our long distance relationship was where I imagined a better life. The main difference between my mother's obsession and mine was that mine carried the hope of turning into reality.

This card was written a week after Tito and I committed to our long distance relationship and details very well how preoccupied I was with him.