Mother Flower

I wonder what’s worst, either her talking too much or her lack of presence in the house. Mothers tend to be uptight and worry a little too much. My mother doesn’t worry, doesn’t call or text. She is rarely ever home. When she is here, it is because her disgusting boyfriend is here as well. I’m not talking bad about her. I’m not even criticizing. I’m just pointing out some of her indistinctive characteristics that make her so unique. She isn’t a loving mother at all. For her, love is leaving you the hell alone and vise versa. The more you try to be nice to her, the more you realize you shouldn’t be nice to her. This woman who is my mother has peculiar ways in her daily life. I try to incorporate with her, but it’s just difficult or maybe impossible. There is no way to get through to her. Her ideas are stuck in her head like crazy glue. She is always making negative remarks about everything and everyone. Simple little details such as dropping a napkin on the floor is more than enough for her to begin to yell loud nonsense. As if life only makes sure she is having a rough time. There are times were I offer to make breakfast for her. She rarely says yes to anything I propose. But I don’t take it personally. At least I try not to. Every now and then I surprise her with a meal. Instead of heading to the table as soon as I invite her to eat, she immediately begins to clean or do something that gets in the way of her having her meal. Meanwhile her remarks accompany her everywhere she goes in or out of the house. I know she has been through tough times throughout her life; it’s just that she should try to make the best of every day and every moment. Rather than being a negative human being all the time. I wish she said good morning at least once. I wish she made dinner on a daily bases. I wish she were here more often and actually feel her presence. I wish she desired my attention. I wish she were nicer to me. I wish she thought of her kids and her future more than she thinks about her boyfriend and his future. It’s just so typical of her. She has never been a single mother. She has always had many men to deal with her. I wish she were more of a mother than a lover for others. I wish she took her family seriously instead of talking so much shit about them. I wished she cared enough for me to care as well. I wish she knew I don’t see her as I used to. She’s no longer this businesswoman who I looked up to. She became an every other day woman with no ambition. Her only wish is to live in a fairy tale were her prince charming finally saves her from her inner misery. I can’t be nice to her even if I wanted to. As soon as he calls or shows up she changes drastically to the point its just absurd. We live under the same roof, yet we hardly sit down to have a conversation. We never go out on dates. We just don’t get in each other’s way. They say you always want what you don’t have. Well, I guess I want a mother who cooks, who calls, who bothers me, who tells me what to do. I want a mother that loves me and tells me that I’m her beautiful daughter. Instead all I have is a bitch that cares more for her own personal affairs than her personal duties. I love my mother. Don’t get me wrong. Thanks to her I am so radically upset with family and what it stands for. She becomes a million different people from one moment to the next in just one second. She constantly yells and talks over people who are talking already. She talks with her mouth full. She has no sense of elegance with her manners. I’ve never heard her say, “I love you” to someone else who isn’t her man. I remember once asking her: “Mom, why don’t you ever say you love me?” She said: “because I’m not use to saying it.” If you’re mother isn’t used to telling you she loves you, what else can you expect from her ways?

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