the language of a (your) mother

You see, now I understand. Why people separated, why people meet each other. And why people stay.

For a woman like me, my baby, it’s not easy to stay. Because my reason to stay is always about having something to do, everyday. And to be honest, I don’t like it. I don’t like to find my self busy to do stuff and routines. I don’t remember since when, but I long to have new experiences. I tend to look for a chance to travel all around the world. I thought that it would be nice, to find my self in a place where I can’t do anything about it, but just relax and enjoy the moment.

That’s pretty much what would happen when you’ll born, dear. I will hold you in my arms, for whoever you are and loving you unconditionally ( I swear I’ll give my best shot to be able to do this). Hopefully until the last time of my life. But you know, there will be times when I start to teach you how to walk and talk. And you can walk, you can talk, then we talk, we share about a lot of things, while the world keep goes on. And you keep walk to me, dear.

When the world goes on, we change, we keep sharing our opinions, our thoughts, in that white uncomfort bench in front of the house (you keep asking me to change the bench, but I seem don’t hear you talk, because I said, I love a white bench in front of a house…). And when we start to talk about the bench, we start to look at each other, stand in front of one another, judge each other and finally claim that one knows what’s best for another. One is the absolute right and other should follow.

That day, we’ll realize that we have so much differences, we stand in a very different places, we avoid each other’s presence and just can’t stand to be in one room together. And instead of yelling to each other about our feelings, we hide it inside and let it grow more and more. We start to not recognize each other’s faces.

Suddenly, we never meet.

That’s when we have to take a journey together. To find ourselves, once again, in our own faces. It will be hard for both of us, but I promise I will be honest. I promise to be true for you, my love. I promise I will be there, to listen to you said that you hate me. To hear your story that you always feel hurt, whenever I’m in your life. And it’s hurting you more that you can’t make me out of your life, because I’m your mother. Because I’m the only person who will always listen, answer your questions, calm your worries.

For all that matters, you will say that you hate me most because I seem don’t care about you. I let life happens to you, but not give any fuckin’-damn-care (I believe you’ll really say this words) about what you do. Everytime you fall, you look at me and I smile. You said, that’s what I do, just smile, whatever happen to you. And that’s what you hate most in me: my smile.

Then, between your anger and your tears, as your body shaking in front of me, I finally can hear you speak softly, I wish you’re not my mother. I really do (as if I don’t hear the words clearly before).

I will smile (again) then and you just can’t believe in what you see and walk away from me.

You see, that’s when my tears will fall down on my face, my memories of holding you in my arms will shown in my eyes, once again. My memories when I met your father and crazy in love with him will appears, once again. My childhood, my longing, my loss, my anger, my sadness, my effort to always break free, my ways to find my self once again, my dreams to finally hold you in my arms, my only reason to stay alive. It will be all comes up to my eyes, once again.

And when I open my eyes, I see you sit in front of me, look into my eyes deeply, and whisper, when will you told me about all of this? Your sadness, your moments of letting go off people, you even let go off me. When will you tell me this pain, inside of you, mom? What are you waiting for? Are you waiting for me to go, leaving you, and that’s how you’ll take the chance to explain how much you miss me around? And finally give up with the conditions, where we can’t do anything about it, because we’re too far to each other to meet again. When will you tell me? That you love me, mom? When?…

I smile again to you and touches your hair. I said, because I don’t want to take control of you. That’s the most why I keep losing. Everytime I hold things in my hand, I keep losing them. One by one. Time after time. And I simply just can’t loose you my dear…

Then I smile again and wash away my tears. I let you see my eyes, read them as far as you want and you let them go, back to my self. For a second there, you prove me once again, that you’re more like your father. Who never want to be the person I let go, and always look for a chance to stay, in my world. As you convince me more and more, that I can never loose you.

And like your father, you won’t give up.

It was just the beginning for you, for us. And you’ll walk to me once again, talk to me once again, share and have fights with me over and over again. Not even once you give up on me. Or give up on my stubborn head. Not once.

You said, we only have each other mom. If I have to kill you, I will kill you by my own hands. But not once I will let you hurted by anyone else. I’m not letting that happen to you. Not while I’m alive. Not now, not ever.

Hhhh…. I miss you already.

Mum

Tuesday, March 3, 2009 at 9:38pm

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Categories: a letter to my unborn child | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

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