"The Wave": Carrying Old Emotional Baggage

I don't really talk to that many people. Most people want an explanation that I just don't have the energy to give. So I stay alone. I keep to myself.

I am aware that there is nothing productive about being sad about my mothers' absence, but there isn't much I can do.

As I have said before, I have ok days, I have bads but never good days.

I know what negative energy can do, because once upon a time I was worse. I didn't want to do anything. I didn't want to go anywhere. I just wanted to sit and cry. My every thought was negative. I never had anything nice to say about anyone or anything.

I lost friends that way...

But I couldn't help it.

When your heart is broken only love can fix it. The kind of love that you feel safe inside of, even just for a moment.

It doesn't help that most of the relationships that I attempted didn't last because I was too "needy" or they just didn't understand me. But they never took the time to get to know me.

I don't carry around old emotional baggage. I just remember. I keep the good memories. I keep the lessons that I learned. And I pour out my heart in a song when the painful memories start to resurface. I learned that singing helps most of the time.

Some people think that since it was such a long time ago that I should be "over it" by now. And maybe to some degree they are right. But I feel pain whenever I see a mother and her child embrace. I feel pain whenever I see a father taking their child(ren) to the park. I feel pain when I see a family sitting at a dinner table, sharing their stories about their day and eating in a warm home.

I have always wanted a home. A place where I have a bed, if nothing else. A place where I can run to when I don't think I have the strength to stand up against the world. I'm "superwoman" just about every single day, but even she gets tired from time to time.

You don't know what its like to be "homeless." I mean I have a place to stay, but its not "home." A place where you feel safe. A place where you can rest your heart. Its like taking a vacation, but you never stay on vacation for very long because eventually you start to get homesick. So you pack your bags and go back to that place where your heart feels the safest.

In my case, I'm always travelling.

When my mother passed. I thought that my eldest aunt would surely take me in. She had children of her own, so she was use to being a mother. I thought she would understand the most about my need for motherly attention and affection. But I found out later that she didn't understand. She couldn't understand. And then I sensed that my cousins were starting to get possessive over their mother. So I had to move on. Nope, no room for you there. Try again.

Its like going to a hotel and them having all their rooms filled up. The only thing you want to do is take a warm shower and flop down in a nice big bed and drift off to sleep.

But the person at the front desk says, "sorry we are full, try again at the hotel across the street." And that's all you hear from then on forward.

People don't talk to me because they don't want to be burden with my pain. I don't wear it proudly but because I am self aware of my emotions I know when this "wave" is about to hit. And when it hits. It knocks me over and whoever else that is with me. Which is why I don't talk about my feelings that much to anyone. I just write them down. At least when I write there is not the chance that I might be rejected or that I might turn someone off because of the sorrow that I might be feeling at the time.

I say this, because one time I dated a guy who was very much in like with me. Everything was going so well until he read what I wrote about missing my mom. He read how depressed I was(I was just going through one of my "waves" of course, but back then I didn't identify with this wave. He just thought I was being negative). He said that my sorrow made him feel bad for having a mother that he didn't always get along with, but one that was always there for him. He broke up with me the next day.

But at least I helped him to realized that he did love his mother. No matter what choices they make (mothers) or what they say, at the end of the day they still love you. They may not always know how to express it very well. But they are human too. No one gave them a guide as to how to raise a child(ren) so they did the best they could do with what they had and with what they knew. But most people don't look at it that far.

I do.

I know the importance of a mother and father. I know how a life can be with the lack of either.