July 9, 2021

The Pain of Wanting a Mother.

When you left, something inside me left too.

Nothing in life seemed to matter much to me anymore.

The abyss swallowed me, and while in it, I searched for you day and night to no avail.

They say time heals all wounds, but this one didn’t heal.

Only for the short three months that you returned did I take a break from the abyss and look up and notice the fractals of the sunflowers sitting on my shelf.

Only during these three months did I again feel the heart in my chest beat with love for this world and for myself.

It’s been many years now since you left, and while I’d like to say I carry you with me, I can’t feel your presence anymore, no matter how hard I try.

You were a beautiful gift that entered my world, but sometimes I wish you hadn’t.

Sometimes I wish I hadn’t learned what it feels like to be truly loved and attuned to by a parent because it showed me that I could never permanently have what you gave me.

Before I met you, I didn’t feel this pain the way I do now.

I had never known the true love of a parent until you showed me.

And while I loved every minute of your presence with me, I wish I hadn’t been loved by you.

I wish you didn’t love me because it confirmed my pain—that I was indeed worthy of it.

They say time heals all wounds, but I’m not sure if I’m healing. At least this isn’t what it feels like.

Maybe I’m supposed to be walking the road toward well-being, but I find myself taking a swim in the abyss instead.

I don’t know why I come here. I guess it feels safe.

There’s nobody here but me.

At least there are no providers to label my pain.

There are no friends to tell me to pull myself together.

There is no pretending I’m walking a path toward well-being.

There’s just me, alone in the abyss, looking for my mother.


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