Being your mum

Credit photo @mariekleber37

We are getting to know each other. Day after day after day. It’s a rollercoaster and then a field trip with butterflies and rainbows.

It was not easy. I said it. Out loud. With guilt and without. We met in chaos and yet we’re still, alive and close, more happy than sad. Our miracle.

I knew, when leaving, that it’s the right choice. But I did not know it would take us to hell before we could see the first lights accross the night. It’s been a ride, one of a kind. With fear of loss and loss of innocence.

You drove me mad so many times, at a time I wasn’t able to cope with it. I got crazy and I thought I was, like he told me once. Tears went on and on. I needed tears to heal my wounds.

They all said it’s all about love but I know it’s not true. Love can’t do it all. It’s also about being able to face our greatest fears and to let go of our deepest desires. It’s about being able to say that we are not making it right, that something needs to be done.

And I did it. I let it all go, my mess, the awful days, your empty face, your pain, mine, the dark hours, me being stuck in the bathroom wishing to die, you lost behind the door and me being unable to reach out to you. I spat it out like it was lava. I broke free of years of humiliation and threats.

Sometimes we remember these moments and we laugh. Maybe it’s for the best. We are so different now. It does not change the past and I’d love if it could!

But only today matters and what we’re going to do with it. In a way it makes me stronger, our relationship, the way it is, I know what I’d fight for if I need to. It feels like I’m not afraid being your mum anymore…

Friends Apart

Photo by @mariekleber37

We used to be…

Life came in
With its ups and downs
Days apart
Years ahead of us
Unknowing of what will last

We used to be…

Knowing by heart
The good and the bad
Feelings kept
Mess being said
Out loud

We used to be…

Never without time
For best wishes
Never thinking
It would not last

We used to be friends

True, safe and secure harbor
Tears shared
Falling apart in one another’s arms

Maybe something happened
Something I am not aware of
Or maybe it’s just life
Me leaving and you staying

Maybe you belong to the past
A past I could have never bore without you
Your smile brought light into darkness
Your golden heart

I do miss you my friend
I left you somewhere near the river
I don’t know why you’re not there anymore
We drifted away maybe

I’m left with question marks
All over the place
Maybe it’s the way life goes

Letting you fly
Letting you decide what’s best to try
Knowing that if you wish, one day
To come back and play
I’ll be there, by the shore
Ready to start again where we left it

Just if you…

Again…

The hardest part is
Seeing somebody you love
Signing for the same life
Same lies
Heading for the same shore
Same shame

Someone knowing your story
Knowing the pain
Knowing the mess
Still feeling her story is different
Still thinking her relationship is safe

Someone you know you can’t help
Someone willing to believe
She will make it
When you know it will break her

Parts of my story

Crédit Photo @mariekleber37

This morning Kim posted something on Facebook about her story, the story of her sister Kay, the story she kept telling, again and again, because it’s hers and because it’s much needed too.

I know some people would rather like me to stop telling MY story. And I’d like this too, to mark a full stop. And yet even if it’s past, it’s always there, in the air. Because I have a child and he has a father, somebody he doesn’t know that much but somebody I know is toxic for him, as he was for me.

And sometimes I feel down, I feel like it’s never ending, like the choice I made back in march 2009 is still haunting me and will always. Like we’ll never be really safe.

Sometimes I wish he’d die, just so we could be free, my son and I, not always wondering what’s the next blow to come, what kind of challenge we’ll have to face again.

I realized I can’t start a new book thinking I can erase him, draw a line accross his existance. I just have to deal with it.

Maybe it’s the hardest part. But yet one day my son will be old enough and strong enough to deal with this mess. Till then I’d like to spare him as much as I can.

I am feeling lonely. This story impacted many people in my life and I don’t want anymore chaos or insomnia for them. I don’t want their fears added to mine. So I keep quiet and I pray. And in the morning I feel strong again and I know that as long as I am alive I will never let him mess up with our lives again, I will protect us, whatever the price I must pay.

In the world of ideas

Photo by Faik Akmd on Pexels.com

It’s been a while. I should say “ages”. There was a time I thought I could not spend one day without words. And here I am, finding no time for short stories or poems. Ideas are there, somewhere. It looks like they know I don’t have much time for them. So they stay quiet.

I would love them to shout out loud, so I would make it a priority to take time for them. And yet I am glad they let me free, so I can make myself available for whatever comes my way.

When I don’t write as I used to, I am a bit worried that I won’t write anymore. It’s just a “maybe” but it could feel so real at times.

Here I am, trying to explain these things, trying to catch up an idea just for a couple of lines. Outside darkness is calling for bedtime. And I let my eyes wonder on the computer screen, thinking of the time ideas flew out of me like millions of shooting stars…