There's a pain that's gonna linger.
Life is hard. Death is harder. Whether it be the death of a loved one, or the death of a relationship. Once you share your life with someone, when they are no longer around...it seems to leave a them shaped hole in your heart. So as more people die, and more relationships end...your heart starts to look and feel as tattered as that favorite t-shirt you still have from high school and just can't bring yourself to throw away.
And all that you are left with are the memories, constant reminders of happier times. My house is full of those. That dress he bought me, that I never wore. The broken bathroom door from that fight we got in that night. The tree behind my house that we sat under and he held me while I cried. That chair we had sex on until it broke. That wall still with a smudge of food on it from him attacking me to make me laugh. And every Tinkerbell, Barbie, and other such trinket that my Mommy bought me because she knew the joy it would bring me. Everywhere I turn, I am faced with a reminder of someone I once loved who is no longer around. My only choice is to enjoy those memories...or move.
The worst part is...for years now, whenever I felt like this...the person I would call was my Mommy. My entire life, through all the craziness and strife, good times and bad...it has been she and I against the world. We were a team. Two single moms, best friends, and partners in crime and punishment. I realize now that since I can remember, I have just been looking for a romantic partner that made me feel as empowered as my partnership with my Mommy did. We fought constantly, but were always there to lend an ear or a dollar or a wise crack if the other was in need. I am not sure when the tide turned, but at some point...my Mommy was no longer my Mommy, she was my best friend.
And now I am here...all alone against the world. Yes, yes, I know. I am not alone. I have an amazing support group of friends, they keep me (somewhat) sane. But they have lives of their own, and have more things to worry about then hearing the same stories about her over and over. I start talking to one person who hasn't heard it over and over, and the others taper off into their own conversations. Not that I can blame them, I'm sure I would do it too. My brother comes over because he had a particularly difficult day, and he wants to talk...but I have a show or have to go to work or have to live my life...and then when I reach out to him...it's all very "cat's in the cradle". Although he tried, the most recent ex had his own life and needs to worry about...it's not that I didn't understand, I am just having a rough enough time that all I can worry about is myself. I am sorry to everyone that I have offended in recent weeks, but for this time I have to take my turn to be selfish.
It just is hitting me harder every day. I am alone. I am an orphan. I have friends, but no partner any longer. And more than that...I am now the head of the "household". I am the one responsible. I have to be the strong one, for my daughter, my mother's husband, my brother, my friends, and myself. And everday as that feeling hits harder, I grow more and more respect for my Mommy. She was always so strong for everyone. Now I have to do the same, in her honor.
This is me. Scared I may not be up to the challenge.
And all that you are left with are the memories, constant reminders of happier times. My house is full of those. That dress he bought me, that I never wore. The broken bathroom door from that fight we got in that night. The tree behind my house that we sat under and he held me while I cried. That chair we had sex on until it broke. That wall still with a smudge of food on it from him attacking me to make me laugh. And every Tinkerbell, Barbie, and other such trinket that my Mommy bought me because she knew the joy it would bring me. Everywhere I turn, I am faced with a reminder of someone I once loved who is no longer around. My only choice is to enjoy those memories...or move.
The worst part is...for years now, whenever I felt like this...the person I would call was my Mommy. My entire life, through all the craziness and strife, good times and bad...it has been she and I against the world. We were a team. Two single moms, best friends, and partners in crime and punishment. I realize now that since I can remember, I have just been looking for a romantic partner that made me feel as empowered as my partnership with my Mommy did. We fought constantly, but were always there to lend an ear or a dollar or a wise crack if the other was in need. I am not sure when the tide turned, but at some point...my Mommy was no longer my Mommy, she was my best friend.
And now I am here...all alone against the world. Yes, yes, I know. I am not alone. I have an amazing support group of friends, they keep me (somewhat) sane. But they have lives of their own, and have more things to worry about then hearing the same stories about her over and over. I start talking to one person who hasn't heard it over and over, and the others taper off into their own conversations. Not that I can blame them, I'm sure I would do it too. My brother comes over because he had a particularly difficult day, and he wants to talk...but I have a show or have to go to work or have to live my life...and then when I reach out to him...it's all very "cat's in the cradle". Although he tried, the most recent ex had his own life and needs to worry about...it's not that I didn't understand, I am just having a rough enough time that all I can worry about is myself. I am sorry to everyone that I have offended in recent weeks, but for this time I have to take my turn to be selfish.
It just is hitting me harder every day. I am alone. I am an orphan. I have friends, but no partner any longer. And more than that...I am now the head of the "household". I am the one responsible. I have to be the strong one, for my daughter, my mother's husband, my brother, my friends, and myself. And everday as that feeling hits harder, I grow more and more respect for my Mommy. She was always so strong for everyone. Now I have to do the same, in her honor.
This is me. Scared I may not be up to the challenge.