I didn’t love you.
To love someone is to love every aspect of them.
Even things that annoy you or make you angry.
I didn’t love you,
Because I hated the way you laughed.
It was loud and you snorted every time you breathed in.
I hated the way you thought you where funny,
And tried to tell awful jokes to make people laugh.
I hated the way you always thought you were right,
And would argue and argue until I gave up.
Though, it sounds as if I hate you,
There are things that I love about you.
I love your eyes,
And how they seem so crystal blue even on the darkest days.
I love your hugs,
And how warm you are when your body pushes against mine.
I love our long talks,
And how you always seem to listen and understand what I’m saying.
But I don’t love you.
I wish I did.
And I thought that maybe one day,
I could grow to love you.
I thought I could learn to love all your imperfections and accept them.
But I can’t.
I’m sorry.

It’s been another year without you mom.
This will make 5 years since you left us.
Since the cancer spread throughout your body and you became too weak to fight it off.
You fought so hard.
For two years, you went through chemo after chemo,
And radiation therapy.
But none of it seemed to help.
Cancer slowly spread throughout your body.
Soon it was in your brain.
Behind your eyes.
Then there was nothing they could do.
You went 3 months.
They said a year.
3 months before you died.
Three months of hugging you every chance I got
And three months of praying that I would wake up and it all be a dream.
Three months of living in denial.
Three months of hardly eating because I wanted to spend every waking moment with you.
Then the time came,
When you were so far gone that you basically lived off of pain medication.
And you didn’t remember who any of us were anymore.
We had our chance, to tell you one last thing before you left us.
And all I could say was that I love you.
And I regret not telling you more.
I regret not telling you everything I had hidden from you.
But all I said was that I love you.
And you weakly looked up at me and gave me a tired smile and it flashed in your eyes that you remembered me.
‘I love you too’
Was the last thing you said to me.
Later that evening,
At 3 in the afternoon,
I watched you take your last breath.
You weakly squeezed my hand.
And I knew it was over.
And for a fleeting moment, I was relieved.
But soon the pain came and I sobbed.
I clung onto you and wouldn’t let go. They had to drag me off of you.
And I screamed when they took you away.
Begged them to let me hug you one more time.
But all I got to do was kiss your cold cheek.
Now I wear a necklace with some of your ashes in it.
It is a small comfort that helps me through the day.
Today is another year without you.
I swear it gets harder every year.

Do you remember when I was younger?
Do you remember when you would wash my hair because it was too long for me to do it myself?
Do you remember taking me to school in the morning and buying me breakfast on the way there?
Or maybe when we would go to yard sales on Saturday and you would buy me old prom dresses and costume jewelry for me to dress up in?
Do you remember when I developed separation anxiety and had to sleep with you every night?
Now, I wash my own hair because I cut the long lengths of it off.
Now, I take myself to school in the morning and buy myself breakfast on the way.
Now, I work on Saturdays to save up for my prom dress.
Now, I sleep alone, clinging to my pillow.
Now, I miss you more than ever before.
I miss when you had hair as long as mine.
I miss when you would do my makeup and tell me that I hardly needed any at all.
I miss when you would play outside with me.
I miss when you would rub my back and hold me, whispering that everything would be okay.
I miss when I had someone to talk to, someone to tell how my day went.
I miss your smile, the way your lips curled into thin lines and your gums showed.
I miss your eyes, the same deep dark chocolate brown as mine.
I miss your voice, the soft yet raspy one that would wake me up every morning.
I miss you, mom.
And I don’t think there will ever be a day when I don’t miss you.
Some days are harder than others.
Some days I can hardly function,
And others, I wake up as if there is nothing wrong.
But deep in my heart, there is a hole.
One that can never be filled.
It just slowly drips out loneliness,
And it makes me miss you more and more.

Today we had a fight.
I’m not sure how it started,
Or who raised their voice first.
All I know is that now I have bruises.
Ones that sting when you touch them.
You tried to apologize.
You tried to clean me up,
And make me feel better.
But bruises take time to heal.
And so do cuts and scratches.
I can’t forgive you right now.
But the bruises will heal soon.
And then all will be better.
Because I can’t be mad at you.
Maybe if I had kept my mouth shut then we wouldn’t be like this.
Maybe if I wasn’t so sensitive then we wouldn’t have these problems.
Today we had a fight and I’m not sure where it started.
All I know is that I have bruises and cuts and scratches.
That could have been avoided,
If I just kept my mouth shut.

I don’t love you.
I lust you.
I lust for your body against mine,
And for your soft plump lips to kiss my skin.
I lust for the taste of your sweat slicked skin,
And the soft moans that escape your mouth.
I lust for the blissed out look on your face,
And for your hands to pull my hair.
I lust for your lips to brush mine,
And the scratches you leave behind.
I don’t love you.
I lust after the pleasure you bring.

Being deathly ill puts things in perspective.
People bring flowers,
And give hugs,
And try and start up conversations that they never bothered having before.
People only care when you’re dying.
They didn’t care enough to ask how you were when you were healthy.
No one bothered to call and try to talk.
No one sent flowers and give hugs.
No one cares unless you’re dying.
And then they suddenly act as If they are entitled to your things.
As if you owe them something for showing up to your deathbed.
I guess there is two types of people.
People with a killing sickness.
And people with a greed sickness.

You whispered sweet promises in my ear.
Told me that you loved me.
Said that it would be okay.
You were soft and gentle.
Your hands were rough but also soft,
And your eyes held a lust that I had never seen before,
But then I said “stop”.
And you froze for a minute.
Your eyes glared at me.
And you stopped whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
“You started this, you can’t just back out now”
I begged and squirmed and tried everything to get you away.
"No! Stop it!"
Your eyes held a cold glare,
And your hands lost their softness.
You pinned me down.
“You’ll love it in a minute”
But that minute came and went,
And I hated every moment of it.
I laid there limp.
I stopped fighting.
I just laid there because that’s all I could do.
And when you finished,
You kissed my cheek,
And told me you loved me,
But I knew it was a lie.
I laid there on that bed for hours.
Thinking of what a mistake I had made and
Thinking of how disappointed my family would be.
And when I finally worked up the courage to shower,
I scrubbed my skin so hard.
Hard enough that sometimes my skin bled,
And I had bruises from pushing so hard.
A week later you broke up with me.
Told me that the spark wasn’t there.
But not until you told everyone about that night.
Told everyone how easily I gave myself up for you.
I told myself I was fine.
That I would get over it.
But no matter how hard I try,
I can’t stop thinking about it.
Because you took something that wasn’t yours to take.
And now I flinch when people get to close.
Now I am scared to let anyone in my heart again.
Because you damaged me.
You said you loved me.
But if you loved me,
Then you would have stopped when I said
“NO!”