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…

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…

Past, nonsense and freedom

Crédit Photo @mariekleber37

Will I be able to let the past where it belongs?

At the beginning of the year, it came back in a rush. I did not want to but yet it knocked at my door and I let it in. Not fully but enough so it could mess up with me again.

Memories, fears, doubts.

Again.

The need to explain my choices and to prove something. The guilt. The pain. It’s crazy how some people can bring to light the best in you and some can only take you down in a second and make you feel useless and lame!

The past came back and I felt strong for a while and then the same old story kept on playing, I wanted to scream. I put on a mask, the one that says “I am ok, I can deal with it.”

Will I, one day?

Ok, I made a bad choice once. Do I have to pay for ever? Or will I be free at some stage of all this nonsense?

Maybe the key is to close the door and don’t try to be nice again. Why should I be?

The key IS to stop trying so hard. This past doesn’t deserve anything from me. And anyway it’s made of nothing. It’s harsh I know and I feel bad sometimes to think like this. Maybe I should stop feeling bad about this, as well!

In fact I am the only one free to show up and say “fuck you!” Once and forever!

What I choose to keep

Credit @mariekleber37

I was at my grand-mother’s place at the weekend and I went through old writing, words she kept like a treasure! Old love, loss stories and blog posts.

I looked at words, thinking “God, you had it all wrong!” I think I wrote a different story than the one I was living, just so I could survive it. It’s crazy but it helped.

I nearly couldn’t believe what I was reading, like it came from another life, a place I visited in dreams. Like it wasn’t me. And it wasn’t me, the “today” me. It was just an old version, somebody I used to be, somebody trying to fit in a life that wasn’t right for her.

I hated people for this, for not understanding I wanted to be somebody, even if it came with harm and sadness. And it did came with all of this, tears and hopelessness, violence and pain. At least, through hell, I was made of something.

How did I knew it? I was breakable. Like made of porcelain.

Old life. I took everything to the paper bin. Relief. I don’t need this. I don’t need to remember, it’s there anyway. And I am fine with it, fine with who I was, what I trade for peace or whatever I was looking for. It’s a big chapter and yet it’s nothing more than that.

I had my chance and I took it, despite the mess and the chaos. Maybe if there’s one thing to keep of these years, it’s this!

And you, what do you choose to keep? Which of your memories make a difference in your life today?

Strange Summer

I wonder. Where the sun is? Where the sun went this year? Did somebody got some? Or did everybody had to find it elsewhere than in the sky?

Summer did not go according to plans. It was one of this strange summer, taking hours as they come, with no sandcastels and many raincoats days.

I am longing for hot chocolates and warm jumpers, for spiced tea and movies on sunday afternoon!

2021 is and will be – it seems – till the end a very special year. Not one we will remember with sparkles in our eyes. And yet, somewhere it gave us something. I am not sure how to describe it yet. But it will come.

We will overcome the grey and messy days. We will find our strenght back, somewhere between what we wish and what we have.