He spoke well. He spoke well to my mother. He was took her out for lunch, dinner or just a long drive out of her home. With him she was herself. She was just her. She did not have a daughter she needed to tend to. She was not a mother. She was just another woman. He was her break from the world. He was her way of having the fun she deserved in her life for love had failed her and she had failed the test of love.
I shuttled between my father’s house and my mom’s house. I faced the same music every single time. I was asked the same questions. I was told the same things.
“You don’t understand how pure and unassuming our love was…”
“Your mother and I were completely in love with each other. I don’t know what went wrong.”
“Everything was going fine. But we split up a year after you were born.”
“If it were not for you I would have told your mom to fuck off I would have been happily married to another woman by now.”
“People wondered how I got such a beautiful woman to marry me. They wished us to be miserable.”
“It is up to you to make us get back together. You can make all the difference. How will you get married otherwise? How will any guy’s parents want to get their son married to a family like ours?”
I am alone now. I have grown up. I am not being asked the questions I was so used to hear. I have become a detached sentimentalist. I couldn’t care less about what people want me to do or want off me but I cannot stop from being depressed blaming myself. I think it’s a deadly combination. I am upset and so is the other person. I feel I am not answerable to anybody and for anything that I do.
I got older and so did my parents. He did not mean anything to my father anymore. Neither did he mean anything to my mother. They lay on their death beds filled with unfulfilled dreams, humiliated with the decisions they made in their life, they wondered how I became a person with no heart and soul for them. How I had only feelings for the people I thought I cared for. If they had nothing to give, I left. I left and as I walked away, with no remorse of their impending death, they asked me,
“How and when did you stop caring for us?”
He bought me chocolates. He bought me ice cream. He was showered me with the love I would I wanted my dad to give me. A child knows only tangible things. Love was a two-way street. He touched me. I couldn’t tell.
4 Scribbles:
Oh My GAWD...beautiful.
I have tears in my eyes right now...i felt each tearing emotion.
We need to talk...love you.
what also came out of it....you became a friend ppl can count on, you've turned out stronger out of every overcoming situation...u may feel numb...or not feel at all...but thats only momentary...what lasts...is that you've become someone irreplaceable.
Signed,
Soulbuddy :)
@Prude: Hugs!
@Soulbuddy: Numb or just plain indifferent... mabbe revengeful! :)
I love you...
I hope you know that..
So touching this post was, I cant say anything more.
Time to meet you.
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