Tag Archives: comfort

what could have been

My life could have been perfect, I’m pretty sure my mom feels that way. She says she feels tormented on the inside to see me suffer the way I do. She does not approve of my husband, she does not approve the way I changed ever since I met him. She just doesn’t approve anything I did, have done or will do.

A long time ago, I stopped trying to make it right. I stopped disillusioning myself for the happiness of her or any other person for that matter. There is no way I can make it right in her eyes, besides, any measures to get back in line with her dreams have long gone. Sometimes, I do think I could have had an easier life, an easier way of living at least. Life and “living life” are two different things, ya know?

Unfortunately or fortunately – depends on how you see it – life has been… painful, tearful, disappointing, mesmerizing but fun at times. My childhood was carefree, common problems with classmates and friends, plenty of shameful events and plenty of fun times. in hindsight, it was the foundation of my conscience¬†of being “different” or bi-cultural. It was very clear from a young age I’m neither one or the other, but always and one plus the other totally opposing cultures. A sense of pride is what I got out of it, my life was just so much richer, unique and made me find a place somewhere in between even though never really belonging to one or the other. Sounds difficult, but it worked out for me, in a kind of double-agent way.

But perhaps because of my sense of not belonging, I was lost. But definitely because of my dad passing away at my blossoming age, I was lost even more. The future didn’t exist for a long time, school was of no interest, fleeing into good times at the clubs with my friends was what I wanted to do. That period of my life seems ever-stretching but seemed long, because that backlash happened quite some time after my dad’s passing. My dad. My hero. A man of not many words, only the very necessary. The calm factor within the family home, opposite to the explosive and drama queen character of my mom that I just could never really figure out.

I still can’t deal with the explosive character of my mom. We have been clashing back and forth ever since that strong, calm pillar left us. I’ve thought of running away many a times, running away from a situation that I didn’t know how to deal with. Even up til today, I don’t know how to deal with it which is why I moved away almost an hour from our family home. Not too close, not too far. It felt liberating.

I have barely 3 weeks left to deliver our second child and just a few nights ago, she broke me. Again. Just like during the first pregnancy. But you are not here. I can’t crawl away in your arms, I can’t feel you hugging me, I can’t hear you comforting me. I can’t get to that feeling that the two of us can face the world alone. And that hurts.

I keep telling the baby to wait for daddy to come home, it can’t be long now. It has to be.

I could have had an easy way of living, I could have had finished my studies all the way, I probably could have had my own house, my own capital. But instead, I took a different road. A difficult one, very rocky, the type of road you have to go all the way down first before you can reach the point where it can go uphill. A lot of times we can see how high the mountain is, but we just keep slipping down. I know a lot of women in my position would have quit a long time ago, there’s no way a woman could stay this loyal, this understanding, this enduring towards any man. At the expense of estranging from the rest of her family, her financial situation, her frustrations.

Christmas is coming near, but it means nothing to me. A New Year is coming ahead, but it’s meaningless. I live by the day, hoping the baby will stay in place for a while. I try to stay strong for the baby, for our son, but when I’m alone and have a moment of silence, I break down. I can’t stop crying until I distract myself again with cleaning up, moving things around, watching movies. I search the pictures on my mobile phone to see you and our son, smiling into the camera like it was yesterday. It’s been two months.

I could have had it all, but only as an empty shell, with that lonesome feeling of not belonging. But I chose to belong to myself and to my husband, on a tough bumpy road that only seems to be going down. But hey, we can still look up and see the sky. Together with you, that is a mighty feeling.

 

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curiosity

I still think of you. You still cross my mind. A closed chapter, bookmarked to read back every now and then.

Sometimes I still take a peek to see what you’re doing in life. And I wonder. I question.
But you seem happy. It feels you went back to your roots, back to a trusted place of love, hope, comfort.

I’d like to believe we both moved on. Yet, somewhere I’d also like to know if you still think about me too.

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intense sadness

A weariness overcame me today
I could feel the tension in my shoulders again
My way home seemed to go in slow motion
because I could feel the intense sadness

It was freezing cold outside
but I would’ve stopped at the lil bridge
Close to home, separating the blocks
just to stand there for hours

Staring at the quiet creek
taking a turn in the green woods
Where the bare trees brush in the wind
in the shimmering moonlight

The back of my eyes were aching
the wind felt even colder against my cheeks
I could feel my tears stream down
it might as well flood the water below

Until I heard your voice
cheerful, without worries, happy
You lifted me up when I was down
your sweet innocence echoed through

It reminded me of my strength
that you give to me unknowingly
The power to keep going with firm tread
so you will know you were my fuel

One day you will know, my dear baby boy.

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making sure

It’s funny how I still open the closet to check if the rings we once wore, are still laying there – neglected and abandoned. The mark on my finger is still there, reminding me how committed I once was to not ever take it off.

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lifted

All alone, yet I never felt so strong before.
I can feel the strength and creativity flow back into my vains.

No matter how much luggage I’m left with, I can solve it.
Because I am that woman.
I choose to be that woman.

What used to tie me down –
I’m letting go.
What I’ve carried on my shoulders –
I’m putting it down.

Exhale.
Open my eyes.
Smile at the world.

At last, I’ve reached my freedom.
Free.
To be me.

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look ahead

When will the silence be broken? We’d have to make things ‘official’ somehow and somewhere down the line. I’d have to break the news to the people close to us. We still under the same roof – even though you wouldn’t think so judging by how little we come across – but I’m making my steps forward to find my own place.

Earlier today, I read a quote saying:

I’m stronger because of my pain, not because of my comfort.

It supplements the blog entry I read before that, describing how women¬† have great strengths that amaze men yet have one flaw: forgetting their own worth. To eventually find that out, it’s painful but I assure you, you will come back out even stronger than you would ever had imagined.

Even though I made up my mind to step out of this relationship and choose for myself and my son, to choose to get out of the chaotic mess which we try so hard to cover up to everyone outside, it still hurts. I just reached a point that I can’t cry about it anymore, because I have done that a lot before. Nonetheless it’s painful to know I can’t give my son a ‘normal’ family where the actual mom and dad love each other and imprint that back on him. It’s a reality check when he asks me out of the blue: “Where is daddy?” and I’d have to pretend and try to convince him that daddy’s working.

Can you believe it though? Me and him haven’t spoken to each other for a month now, but he has also not spoken to his own son for that long too. Now tell me, you call yourself a father? Or are you just being selfish and childish for not wanting to speak to me and neglect our son in the process?

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sell me a lie

I used to believe in every word you said. I used to put my trust in you. Every time, you knew when to say what you needed to tell me and I was happy to wait a little longer. Was it really love that we felt at that time? Was it really?

Your control over me happened in stages, boxing me up with each fold you were making. Now, I’m just angry at myself. Angry for letting it happen, angry for letting it get this far. Besides that, I started to doubt if you meant all you said to me. Looking back I feel dissapointed if that is what love really is, an intimate game we played with each of our hearts at stake.

Looking forward however, it feels like a relief. Even though things will not automatically solve itself, I feel comforted with the thought that I have to carry my own weight this time around. At least, I won’t have to wait and depend on you like I did for so long, because now I can feel like I’m finally moving forward making my own decisions.

We still live in the house together, but we live like ghosts. It feels like we are living in parallel universes, that’s how hard we try to avoid each other. Just like you avoid the food I made. The mail betrayed you and told me you never came home from Friday to Sunday. You hardly sleep at home at night and I don’t see you except for the traces you leave when you did get home while I was at work.

You have set me free when you took your ring off, when you thought you were gonna hurt me instead. It doesn’t hurt me anymore, because we tried and it didn’t work out. I think we both just couldn’t give that anymore, that x-factor to bring back the relationship from the land of the undead.

Because we used to know each other for who we were. We used to know each other’s thoughts, each other’s directions in life.
I used to think you appreciated my input.
I used to know you as a man I admire.
I used to love you so, so hard.
I used to.

Believe.

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day by day

Christmas went by fast this year, just as I had hoped for. We didn’t bother to indulge in dinners, late nights together or spending much time with family and friends. At least, not together. Growing up, I always knew I was different. Meeting him, I knew he was different. Put us together and we’re awkward, like a reggae beat in a catholic church.

We are, however, taking it day by day again. Just taking each situation as it is. Trying to see where exactly we used to fit in together, make our differences work together. There are ups but also downs, miscommunications and inside jokes.

Unfortunately, I can’t seem to help to keep wandering off in my mind. At times, I feel guilty for still communicating to him, knowing fully well it’ll jeopardise everything we’re trying to fix.

I find myself pathetic for not knowing what the hell I want, or not wanting to realise what I want. I find myself pathetic for letting myself linger between two worlds of the mind, not wanting to make a decision for myself, afraid of the pain and aftermath that’ll come either way. It’s sickening at times, how I even live with myself every single day, torturing myself, numbing me out from the reality, pretending. When really, one of the things I really hate is pretending.

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difficulty dealing

When I think of my son, tears start to sting my eyes. If only he knew, the struggle I feel inside. Even though somehow, I know he feels it too. A connection between a mother and child can never be scientifically explained, it’s just there. Subconsciously we can feel each other on a whole different level. His innocence pierces through me as if I were transparent, his joy lets my guard down and his blank sheet of life cuts through my soul.

How do you even begin to explain to your child what potentially lies ahead? Adults struggle with life, let alone children who take their first steps. Stay in my arms, even though you can’t all the time. But know you can always come and hug me, whenever, wherever, I’m here. To help you deal when it’s difficult.

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pull me in

I can’t see you, but I feel you near
the sun reflecting on the water above
A pain on my chest, sufficating me
‘kick, legs, kick’ is all I hear in my mind

The more I struggle, the faster I fall
darkness lurks below me, calling
A sigh overwhelmes me, my body shivers
then my feet stop kickin

What’s the point in trying
because I know what’s happening
I remain motionless, shut my eyes
allowing the deep to get hold of me

Pull me in, deeper and darker
the silence around me is achin
It’s useless to get back up for air
because your love is drowning me

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