Sunday, May 12, 2013

To A Mother

 To a mother.

To a mother who was never there to see me grow up. A mother who did not get to see me take my first steps or hear my first words. A mother who did not have to drag me out of bed to get me to school every single day. A mother who did not have to deal with my endless cries for more ice cream and candy. A mother who did have to shed any tears when I messed up or fucked up my life again and again. A mother who at the time I was conceived may or may not have been a slut, a prostitute, the other woman, a drunkard, a stoned teenager or just one of those people who got knocked up. A mother who if I meet now may not understand or be fluent in the language I speak. This is for a mother I do not know. This is for a mother I hope loved me. This is for a mother I may not love at all.

It may seem cruel and harsh for me to say that I may not love you. But think about it, love can only be given and received if the person giving it and receiving it is around somehow. How can I love someone who deliberately chose never to see me again? I'd like to believe however that you gave me away because you loved me. I would like to think that you gave me up so that I could have a better future. Yet, it could also be the other way around. You could have given me away because you selfishly loved yourself. You could have given me up because you perceived me as a hindrance to your own great future. I would be a fool not to take a human's selfish nature into consideration when contemplating these things.

For a long time, I could not grasp the concept of adoption in which those who want a child can get a child from those who do not wish to keep a child. It delighted me to know that I was chosen by people who did not have to show affection towards me. At the same time, it was a huge pain in the ass to know that you, a mother who is related to me by blood, could not find it in yourself to keep me. Sugarcoat it all you want. Truth is, I was abandoned and given up to a couple of strangers I now call my family. Although it took my family only five days after my birth to bring me home and welcome me into their privileged world, it does not change the fact that I was alone for a few unfortunate days.

If you were to magically appear out of nowhere or come back from the dead to apologize to me for giving me up, I'll let you know now that you have nothing to be sorry for. Everyone is fully aware of what they do before and while they are doing it. And apologizing is just a crappy excuse and a backup plan to make the one you have offended feel better. Scratch that. An apology makes the offender feel better. An apology won't bring back wasted time. A sorry will not change my life. An expression of regret will not make you or me a better person. Nevertheless, a sorry will make you feel good. So say it if you have to. But I won't forgive you. There is nothing to forgive. I feel nothing.I have grown numb to whatever emotion I felt or still subconsciously feel about my situation.

I question my choice to even call you a mother, but the word is used for any woman who has given birth to a child. And that is all you are. You are just a woman who gave birth to me. You acted like a conduit. You were a channel. A channel of a fucking blessing of a baby girl - me. You were a mother who brought me into this world to give me to my mother. You may never know how much my mother wanted me or how many gallons of tears my mother cried when I dyed my hair blue. But then, I may never know how hard a time I must have put you through while I was in you for nine months. I guess there are things you and I will never know but will always want to know about each other.

So on this very happy Mother's Day, let me tell you that this letter is not to thank you or to condemn you for what you did. This is not to make you feel guilty or to make you feel at peace with your decision. This is also not a hate letter or a love letter to you. This is me realizing that you are a mother. And for those nine months I was in you and you surrounded me, you were my mother. Maybe that's enough for me to respect and honor you because you were a mother. You were my mother. I knew your voice. I heard your cries. I sensed your thoughts. I knew you. And you knew me.

Saturday, May 11, 2013


I honestly don't know how to start this because I don't know how this started. 

There is no date to celebrate. There is no specific time or moment when the feelings started to creep in. There is nothing to look back to that will ever prove that any of this even happened. And maybe that's the problem with this whole I-don't-know-what-to-call-it-relationship. It was built on nothing. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it is nothing. Yet if this was all nothing, why does it suck? Why does it - excuse my fucked up term - hurt? Why do I feel that this is just another break up altogether?

Perhaps there was something after all. It wasn't love. I'm sure of that. It was a mutual respect and admiration of each other that led us to this nothingness. Trust was involved too which was broken month after month after month. Lies existed to cover up a multitude of hurt that came about from lies also. Happiness was sporadic, but we both lived for those precious moments. Fighting was our language through which we communicated with a passion. There were no rules. Anything was possible! 

And that "anything" happened. You got drunk. I got drunk. You flirted with other girls. I got drunk because you flirted with other girls. I smoked. You got mad. I said you had no right to be because you didn't own me. You shut up because you knew I was correct. I cursed you. You cursed me. My curses had no effect on you. Your curses to me scarred me for life. You stayed. I left. You didn't call me back. I kept on hoping you would. I said sorry. A lot. You always just accepted it. My pride got in the way. Your pride blocked the way. We refused to give way. I hoped. I hoped too much. You made me believe that I had something to hope for.
Finally, I came to my senses and threw nothing down the drain because I had nothing to throw away to begin with. There was no us to tear apart. There was no date to forget every month. There were no text messages to delete or chats to regret. A relationship status change was not necessary which meant that no questions were asked. No questions will ever be asked. There are no pictures of us up on the Internet that have to be taken down. There was nothing. There is nothing.

So what was that all about? If nothing took place and there was no relationship, what should I be feeling right now? If this was the usual break up scenario, you'd see me walking around like a zombie for days and I'd be listening to The Script. Yet this is not the usual, normal break up. This is not a break up. I did not lose anything, but I feel that I left something behind. Mixed and messed up feelings that should not even be felt are strangling my soul. Fuck. I need to wake up from this bad dream.

As I try my best to piece together some answer that will make myself believe that this was worth it, a friend suddenly opens up to me to share her own story that began with nothing and ends with nothing also. And she asks me for advice while I sit here not knowing what to say or how to deal with her heartache. Her questions remind me of my own situation. My answers to her questions are answers that I need to get into my brain and be convinced by. I don't have the guts to tell her that I can't even follow my own advice. I abruptly stopped replying to her because the emotions that came along with the conversation were too much to handle. I wish her the best though. And i give myself applause for being such a good liar.

I began and will end now with nothing.