rips in my soul.
No child should have a mother like that. And it wasn’t even just the anger. It was after, too. The tears. The breakdowns. The inability to crawl out of the bed.
I was barely old enough to dress myself and I was trying to help my mother find a reason to live. All the while I wondered why we weren’t her reason. Why I wasn’t her reason. No kid deserves that.
It will scar a child forever. It damages them. It makes them unable to understand what the concept of love even is. There is nothing an aunt or a friend or even a lover can say to undo what that kind of life will leave burned into the mind and heart of a child. Even long after they are an adult.
Nobody understood that. Nobody got it. Yes I had Aunt Dee. But she had her own family. She was good to us. She loved us. But it’s not the same. It’ll never be the same.
She wasn’t my mother. I needed my mother. Hell my father could have stepped in and helped. But he ignored it. He didn’t love me either.
When you are disappointing people at five years old, you are destined to do it for the rest of your life. How do you get past that?
I watched my cousins and as much as I loved them I hated them more. They had what I wanted the most. What I still fucking wanted. A family.
I’d never have it. Nobody would ever love me like that. I’d learned to accept that in my life and make do. But then Avery came along. And she did. She loved me the way I’d always wanted someone to love me. And it scared the fuck out of me. Why would she love me? How? She had given herself to me completely. But I didn’t understand it. What was it about me and my fucked up life that made her feel like she needed me so badly in hers? Most of all, what the hell would I do when she realized she actually didn’t?
I was terrified of disappointing her. Letting her down. Hurting her. I wasn’t good. I wasn’t a good person. I’d always known that. I didn’t ever want to look at her and see the light in her eyes fade. I never wanted her to see the darkness that exists out in the world. The darkness that existed in me.
She was so pure. So trusting. So innocent. She talked about family and friends and her eyes lit up and sparkled. She believed in the good in people. Even that bitch she called a friend. She looked at Colby and saw someone that loved her.
I did not want to take that away from her. I didn’t want her to know what it was like to wake up every day and wonder why you were breathing. I didn’t want her to spend her life wishing she could close her eyes and make it stop. I didn’t want her to see how cold and mean the world was. I didn’t want her to see that I wasn’t the man she thought I was.
That’s why I hid it all. My family. My mother. My brother’s problems. Even me. All of it. I wasn’t ashamed of her. I didn’t want to hurt her. I wasn’t playing games with her. I was terrified of changing her. I was terrified of changing the way she looked at me. I was terrified of knowing what it felt like for Avery to see me the way the rest of the world did.
Even if it meant I sat there feeling empty. Longing to see her. Wishing I could smell her coconut shampoo. Hoping that someday I’d see her blush and say “Shut up Spencer,” before she smacked me, giggled and bit her lip. Every moment away from her was torture to me. But every moment with her was another moment of her happiness and innocence that I would steal. It was a step closer to seeing the same anger, hatred and betrayal in her eyes that I’d seen in everyone else’s. And I couldn’t do that. No matter what it cost me. I didn’t want to do that.
All I’d ever wanted was for her to be happy. What made me happy was seeing her happy. What made her happy was me. When I destroyed her, it would destroy me. So I tried to protect her. As I sat in that airport, eyes closed, and thought about the words Colby had said I hated myself again. For
No child should have a mother like that. And it wasn’t even just the anger. It was after, too. The tears. The breakdowns. The inability to crawl out of the bed.
I was barely old enough to dress myself and I was trying to help my mother find a reason to live. All the while I wondered why we weren’t her reason. Why I wasn’t her reason. No kid deserves that.
It will scar a child forever. It damages them. It makes them unable to understand what the concept of love even is. There is nothing an aunt or a friend or even a lover can say to undo what that kind of life will leave burned into the mind and heart of a child. Even long after they are an adult.
Nobody understood that. Nobody got it. Yes I had Aunt Dee. But she had her own family. She was good to us. She loved us. But it’s not the same. It’ll never be the same.
She wasn’t my mother. I needed my mother. Hell my father could have stepped in and helped. But he ignored it. He didn’t love me either.
When you are disappointing people at five years old, you are destined to do it for the rest of your life. How do you get past that?
I watched my cousins and as much as I loved them I hated them more. They had what I wanted the most. What I still fucking wanted. A family.
I’d never have it. Nobody would ever love me like that. I’d learned to accept that in my life and make do. But then Avery came along. And she did. She loved me the way I’d always wanted someone to love me. And it scared the fuck out of me. Why would she love me? How? She had given herself to me completely. But I didn’t understand it. What was it about me and my fucked up life that made her feel like she needed me so badly in hers? Most of all, what the hell would I do when she realized she actually didn’t?
I was terrified of disappointing her. Letting her down. Hurting her. I wasn’t good. I wasn’t a good person. I’d always known that. I didn’t ever want to look at her and see the light in her eyes fade. I never wanted her to see the darkness that exists out in the world. The darkness that existed in me.
She was so pure. So trusting. So innocent. She talked about family and friends and her eyes lit up and sparkled. She believed in the good in people. Even that bitch she called a friend. She looked at Colby and saw someone that loved her.
I did not want to take that away from her. I didn’t want her to know what it was like to wake up every day and wonder why you were breathing. I didn’t want her to spend her life wishing she could close her eyes and make it stop. I didn’t want her to see how cold and mean the world was. I didn’t want her to see that I wasn’t the man she thought I was.
That’s why I hid it all. My family. My mother. My brother’s problems. Even me. All of it. I wasn’t ashamed of her. I didn’t want to hurt her. I wasn’t playing games with her. I was terrified of changing her. I was terrified of changing the way she looked at me. I was terrified of knowing what it felt like for Avery to see me the way the rest of the world did.
Even if it meant I sat there feeling empty. Longing to see her. Wishing I could smell her coconut shampoo. Hoping that someday I’d see her blush and say “Shut up Spencer,” before she smacked me, giggled and bit her lip. Every moment away from her was torture to me. But every moment with her was another moment of her happiness and innocence that I would steal. It was a step closer to seeing the same anger, hatred and betrayal in her eyes that I’d seen in everyone else’s. And I couldn’t do that. No matter what it cost me. I didn’t want to do that.
All I’d ever wanted was for her to be happy. What made me happy was seeing her happy. What made her happy was me. When I destroyed her, it would destroy me. So I tried to protect her. As I sat in that airport, eyes closed, and thought about the words Colby had said I hated myself again. For
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