Despite It All

I wish I could say that I hate her more than I love her.

I wish I could say that honestly, truthfully, beyond belief, and into conviction.

But I'd be lying. And I try not to lie despite it all.

And I wish I could say that she hates me more than she loves me.

I wish I could say that and believe it.

I wish I could believe that and finally feel okay.

But I'd be lying. And I try not to lie despite it all.

I know she was brought up the same way I was.

With raised fists and cowering behind people who were supposed to protect you but stepped aside for reasons that felt more like excuses.

I'm not saying she didn't go through that.

I'm saying the cycle shouldn't have continued.

I'm saying that there is no reason that doesn't feel like an excuse for why she stepped aside in the same way she experienced.

I've heard all my life that she did the best she could, that she tried her hardest, that I should be grateful.

But I cannot, will not, be grateful for bruises, and pain, and fear.

I cannot, will not, be grateful, for the things I went through as a child when I know that her reasons for stepping aside are nothing more than excuses.

She suffered. I'm not denying that.

But I suffered and am told I should be grateful.

Her innocence was taken before her time by someone she trusted.

So was mine.

But I never trusted her to believe me so I never shared that pain.

She told me that I should be grateful that my innocence was never taken.

She told me that I should be grateful he was in my life at all.

That the alternative, of a life without him, would be worse.

I cannot think of something more I would've wanted, than a life without him.

But, in a way, she was right.

When he was finally gone, I almost wished for him back.

At least I was wanted in some way, in any way, by him.

She wanted nothing to do with me.

I wish I could say the same.

But I'd be lying. And I try not to lie despite it all.

Despite it all, she still raised me.

Despite it all, she's still my mom.

Despite it all, I can't help but want my momma.

And that's a devastating experience.

Wanting someone and missing someone who doesn't really exist.

Yeah, mother exists. But the momma I'm wanting never did.

I wish I could say I don't regret leaving her behind.

But I'd be lying. And I try not to lie despite it all.

Despite it all, there is still a child in me somewhere screaming for their momma to save them.

I wish I could help them to understand that she never will.

I guess I have to settle with what I have.

After all, I should be grateful.

She tried her hardest.

She did the best she could.

I wish I believed that.