There are moments when I wish to be the flower in the vase: adored, transient, and chosen. Others when I long to be the flower in the field: lonely, wild and free.
But if I cannot be both then I would rather be neither.
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Their loving glow resides in my heart.
There is a constant battle between the real Self and the self that wishes to be loved at all cost. And yet the latter is what dooms us to to a soulless and insatiable bond with nothingness.
One should be wary of filling the chasm with what could create a larger one.
Were there were walls within the emptiness I would draw flowers upon them.
Dear Mommy,
Happy Mother’s Day. I wonder if you thought of me as I thought of you. It’s okay if you didn’t, I just get curious about those sorts of things every once in a while. I can’t imagine how hard this day is for you. I wonder if it reminds you of the tragedy of your mom’s suicide or of not knowing me. I’m sending you lots of love if this is hard day for you. I’m sending you lots of love even if it isn’t.
I have decided that in order to let you go I have to let you in. I’m sorry if that doesn’t make sense but it’s the best I can do to explain it. I know very little of you; only what my father and grandparents have shared, which is decidedly, though never cruelly, negative. I know there are many sides to a story and I don’t need you to justify yourself unless it would help you somehow.
I have gathered from the little information I have that you struggled with intense mood swings. I don’t know if you identify as having mental illness but it’s something that I have struggled with since childhood. I know how hard it is to battle those demons and if that is part of why you decided to leave I want you to know that I understand. I haven’t always treated people the way they deserve to be treated either. This doesn’t mean I’m not sad only that I understand how hard it can be to take care of yourself much less another human being. If you felt like you couldn’t look after me then you made the right choice for both of us.
I hope this doesn’t sound cruel but I don’t think about you that often. But though I’m not consciously aware of you I also realize that you’re a part of me. You left with a yawning void that I have never learned to fill consistently. But you also left me with a big warm heart that, when it’s not feeling sick, has an abundance of love to give and receive. You left me with a predisposition for mental illness, but that also helped create in me a resiliency that people who do not struggle with it could never know. You left me so alone, but in the solitude I learned how to use my imagination to bring the world to life.
Mommy, I don’t know you but I want you to know that I love you. Please help me hold you in my heart so that I can finally let go of you and of this emptiness.
Love,
Your Son
How I love those days when I can say sad things with a gentle smile.
