take this as you will

My mother used to tell me stories about you and her before we met

About all the good days she used to have when you two were together

About times when you would make her laugh and about times when you would make her smile

I began to wonder what you looked like and I formed a picture in my head

An innocent thought from a child who should have know better.

I remember being nervous, I didn’t want to meet you but ma said it would make her happy, she said that you had been asking about me

I’m still not sure if that was true

It wouldn’t of mattered though since I had secrets of my own, reasons for why I already didn’t like you

With a single deep breath, I could see how things would play out

You would have similar tendencies to all the ones before,

play nice in front of a crowd,

give gifts only in apology,

expect time but never give it.

Later,

we greeted each other with moms watchful yet blinded eye and when you were out of earshot, I told her that I didn’t like you

I would come to find out that she would never truly understand why

she would turn ignorantly in love becoming just as problematic

I wonder now, where I was when you were making each other happy

Maybe I was with a friend like I would be a countless number of nights in the years to follow

Running away from the screaming and the shouting, and then the makeups and the laughter as if you both weren’t dragging me down with you.

On my loneliest nights,

I would wonder if she ever thought of me or if she just had thoughts of you

Should I be offended when you pull her away from me?

A child in need of her mother, who also played the role of her father so I guess that means you took away two

But I guess she aided in it, didn’t she?

What neither of you will understand is that, you are both the antagonists in this story, my story

Never pointing fingers in the right direction

I will unwillingly hold the blame for your relationship problems on my still growing shoulders

Confusion in my eyes but my head held high, I learn to fend for myself

Never completely losing hope that I can somehow save us both from you, even though she never says she actually wants to be saved

And maybe that was the problem, that I just assumed.

Eventually and with concealed feelings,

I will shut the door to my own casket, encasing myself in a darkness that I will hope to never feel

And when my mother continues to ask me what I think of you

I will laugh, humorlessly and shake my head, lightly because I do not have the answer she wants

I will never have the answer she wants

Because if I was to tell her the complete truth then I would have to tell her what I think of her to

And I’m not sure if either of us are ready for that yet.

Thanks for reading,

N. Aeon