I wish I had a mother like the others. One who has time for me and gives me advice. One who loved me despite my different opinions. One who stood up for me when I needed it the most.
And I wish I could be the daughter you always wanted to have. I wish I could do exactly the things you always dreamed of me doing, be the perfect little girl you imagined I’d be.
It’s funny how impossible it seems from my point of view. How impossible to be who you want me to be. How impossible must it be for you to be who I want you to be?
I feel like I can’t even talk to you. I’m wondering if you’re waiting for me to call. To talk to you about all the bad things that happened ever since I left. It’s funny to me. How a loneliness so big in two people yet doesn’t manage to build a bridge over the gap. We’re in the same room, with back turned to each other. I can’t even see you.
Sometimes I feel… split. There’s this girl I’ve heard of, who grew up in this fundamentalist family, and I know her story. I think a friend told me about her? Well, she left. I don’t know what happened after that. She disappeared into nothingness. And then there’s me. I was born, and I was already 22 when that happened. I didn’t have a childhood or teen years. I was born 22. I don’t know this other girl they say I used to be. I can’t be. How could I possibly be her if I’m so different? How could I possibly be her?
Sometimes I despise this girl. She left her family. You don’t leave your family. She can’t be a very good person. I on the other hand, I’m a good person. I just flutter through life, like a moth. I try to follow the light whenever I can catch a glimpse of it.
Maybe it helps me to think of myself this way. Being born at adult age means I have no family I could abandon. I don’t have to call them either.
I just can’t face my siblings. My parents. I don’t want to speak of my sister. It’s all not me.
Sometimes I think of this girl, it’s like a movie. And I realize that this is me. This is me. And then I have to ask myself, what did you do? Why did you do that? I wish it wouldn’t exist. I wish I could be … not her. I wish I could leave forever and go somewhere nobody knows me, and tell a beautiful story of two loving parents who unfortunately died in a car accident. No, I don’t have any brothers or sisters. It’s just me and that’s all there’ll ever be.
But I can’t.
Mom, can’t you make the world start all over and we’ll give it another try? We’ll make it better this time, I promise.