An Open Letter to My Beautiful Mother
To my beautiful Mom,
How are you? And no, this letter is not for greetings nor small talks. I made this letter to fully expressed how I feel right now.
I wish that I could say this personally to you, but I can’t. I just can’t see you hurt. I can bear my own pain but I can’t bear to see yours. That is how much I love you, mom! But sometimes, I wish I could make you feel my pain and see the void that slowly growing and continue to devour me for the past 21 years.
I know you’re not the worse mom in the world, I believe you’re not, But I’m sorry to tell you that you’re not the best either, oh, How I wish you are. I just can’t feel it mom! I just can’t understand leaving me alone and not maintaining social connection to me is your way of loving me. I just can’t comprehend how making me independent at a very young age can be both beneficial to us. I am bewildered every time they say that you’re working overseas so you can give us a good life, I don’t understand losing me in exchange of financial stability and welfare is a success. I really don’t understand when they said that distance doesn’t matter, it fucking does! How do you expect me to be a good human being when I grow up lacking in maternal love. I am emotionally unstable, I am filled with distrust, dishonesty, violence, hatred and very much feel unloved. How I wish you know my pain, Mom.
Do you know how it feels to see a happy family having lunch in a restaurant? A happy family you see walking together? Or just a happy family picture. It kills me, mom. I wish I could say that I’m still lucky because you’re alive and you’re here… but I’m not, mom. Call me selfish, call me greedy. That’s okay. I know, I am. How can you expect me to be contented in our family when we’re not complete? An incomplete family is not a family, mom. Right now, we’re just a group… maybe now, strangers in a group.
Do you know how much torture I feel when people ask me about my family and everytime I open my mouth, everything I said are all lies. I wish, it wasn’t. Do you remember when they said that a child is a reflection of their parents? I’m trying to give you a great image, mom! I’ m trying my best not to embarrass you. I’m constantly lying of how a good son I am, mom. I’m doing my best to maintain that image. But right now, I’m sorry mom, I just can’t swallow this poison again… not this time, mom.
I know it’s hard raising 2 boys on your own, I can feel it, Mom! And I’m trying my best not to be a burden to your life, I’m trying my best, Mom! But that doesn’t mean I’m not craving for attention and love and acceptance and compassion. I do, Mom! I am hungry with all of it. I crave for it! I desperately tried seeking for it in other people but they only treated me same. I tried chasing after them, mom, but they still left me. For quite sometime now, I feel I am not worthy of love, compassion, acceptance and belongingness. The void inside that once was as small as a dot becomes an unfathomable black hole, it devours my soul mom, it fucking stings.
How I wish that you are there when I needed you most. How I wish you are there to save me when things fall down. How I wish that you’re there to say that everything’s gonna be alright, when I feel like it isn’t,mom! I wish I wasn’t writing this letter to you.
Save me, mom. My spirit is suicidal.
I just hope when the time comes you are ready to be a mother again, I am still your son.
Loving you so much,