The Day Will Come…When You’ll Have No One….

Okay, so I’m a tad bit peeved at the moment. I got into with my mother earlier and it was not pretty. She makes me so damn mad sometimes. Today was one of the times. It had to do with me finding out that she’s been talking to that loser ex of hers…the one that used her, took advantage, treated her like shit, and openly admitted to have cheated on her with several women while they were still together. For use of a better word, the guy is a total douche. He’s had nothing to do with her for over 2 years, and now he’s suddenly had a change of heart? Please, the guy is a cold bastard. After everything he put her through, I can’t believe she’d answer his call, let alone actually talk to the jerk for over an hour.

I don’t get. And I sure as hell don’t get her. I never have. I’ve tried, but I just can’t figure out why—or how, for that matter—she has and will always put a man in front of her children. She’s been that way for as long as I can remember. When I was little, she did it with my father. She’d leave us kids with my grandmother, sneak out, and take off with him all the time. After my father, it was her now ex-husband. The guy was a jerk who made no secret out of the fact that he couldn’t stand us kids. To him, we were just added baggage that he didn’t want. They didn’t last long—though it had nothing to do with us kids. Rather, it had to do with the fact that my mother went and had an affair with her boss WHILE they were still married. That guy—he wasn’t much better than the others. He wasn’t too thrilled about us either. As far as he was concerned, he’d raised his kids and that was it. She was with him for a number of years—and all the while, she made it clear that he came first. She was always with him and never around. Granted, my grandmother picked up her slack and practically raised us herself, but that’s not the point. The point is that she wasn’t there. And she should have been. She was our mother. We needed her. However, she apparently didn’t need us. It wasn’t right—any of it. Growing up, I questioned why she’d even bothered to have us kids at all. She didn’t want kids. She wasn’t mom-material. She told us that all the time. It’s a horrible thing to say, but I think everyone would have been better off if she’d aborted us instead. After all, she didn’t want us. I know that in her own way, she loves us. But that’s not good enough. Not for me, anyhow.

We needed more. Hell, we deserved more. She missed so much and what’s sad is that I don’t think she’s ever been sorry or felt guilty about that. It’s like she doesn’t care. A mother should be there for her child. But she wasn’t there. She wasn’t there for my soccer games, my chorus and concerts, or award dinners. She wasn’t there to see me off to college…or to even go to all my campus visits with me. Not once in the two years that I was at Colgate did she ever set foot on the campus. Not once. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive—let alone forget—her for not being there. It sucks, but I’ve accepted that she’s never going to change. She’s always going to be this way.

It’s one thing for her to have done what she did with us kids—but it’s been that way for so long that it doesn’t even matter at this point. What makes me angry now is that history is starting to repeat itself and she’s doing the same thing to my niece. And I’m sorry, but I refuse to just stand back and watch her do that to that little girl. It isn’t right. She tells her she loves her, but you’d think that if she did love her—then she’d want to be around for her. But that’s not my mother. I know damn well that if this last guy—the one she’s talking to again now—asked her back…she’d leave in a heartbeat to be with him. It’s just who she is. And my niece—she’s too young to understand. And she’s too forgiving. I just hate that she’s eventually going to grow up and realize the truth…like my siblings and I realized growing up ourselves. I just don’t want her to get hurt…but I think it’s going to happen either way. I don’t know, maybe my niece is better off figuring it out now, just to get it over with save herself from more pain down the road. I don’t know.

Anyhow, that’s what we argued about tonight. I told her she was being selfish and a fool. And she’s both of those things. I get that she’s an adult and can do as she wants—but she fails to realize that it’s not just about her anymore. She fought for custody of my niece. She wanted her to be loved and raised in a stable, happy household. If she didn’t want the responsibility, then she never should have gone to court in the first place. Granted my brother and my niece’s mother aren’t the greatest role-models, but then neither is my mother…not when she’s starting her shit again.

I called her out on what she’d done to us. And what she’s doing with my niece. She didn’t appreciate that obviously because then she lashed out on me. She made some nasty comment about how no one stuck their nose in my business or told me what to do when I was doing drugs and drinking and sleeping with Mr. Should’ve-known-better. It was a cheap shot. A low blow. Of all the things she could have thrown in my face…did she really have to pick that one? She knows damn well what that did to me. The hell I went through. She was there when everything fell apart. Hell, she was there that day in the courtroom and afterwards in the elevator when I broke down. She knows damn well that I didn’t win, or get away with anything. I paid for what I did and the mistakes I made. I lost everything. I suffered. Hell, I’m still suffering. I have to live with the shame and the guilt. I got my heart broken and my world turned upside-down. I lost my self-respect, my dignity, my reputation…not to mention my inability of trust anyone or anything anymore. I had to keep secrets and hide the truth and push my friends away for over a year. I shut myself off from the rest of the world so I could do what I thought was right. Hell, I nearly died because of it…because I honestly thought it’d be easier to just give up and end it all, than to go one more day in the living hell that had become my life. I punished myself for my recklessness and foolishness. For my horrible judgment. I made mistakes. I know that. And I have to live with them. What I did isn’t the same as what she’s doing. Unlike her, I learned my lesson. And unlike her, there’s no chance of history repeating itself on my end. That, if nothing else, I do know.

But compared to her, I did nothing that measures up to what she’s done. She’s done a hell of a lot worse. I may have been young and foolish, but you’re supposed to make mistakes when you’re young. It’s the only way you’re ever going to learn. But she’s old enough to know better. To know that what she’s doing isn’t right. I don’t know if she cares or not, but she will. There’s going to come a day when she realizes what she’s done and all that she’s sacrificed just to please a man. She’s going to regret not being there for us, and for my niece. And when that day comes, when that happens—it’s going to be too late. The damage will have already been made. She’ll be on her own, and have no one to blame for it but herself. I may have to live with my burdens, but hers will be even heavier. This is on her. Not me.

Anyhow, now that I’ve vented, I feel a little bit better. Time to do some work.



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