Empty, hollow, lifeless.
Those were the words I used to describe how I felt yesterday to a friend. I was numb, my body didn’t even know what was going on, and everything felt foreign. Even while I was unpacking my things at my boyfriends house it didn’t seem real. It felt like when you go on vacation and it doesn’t feel like home but at the same time you know your’re going to be sleeping there for the mean time.
I got home from work yesterday and that’s when it all started. My mom asked the questions and I answered them. Did I try to defend myself when she was saying things? Did I try to justify my reasons for being gay? Did I try to make her understand? No. I just sat there, for what felt like years, while she said things I will probably never be able to let go.
Every word she said, some how hurt less and less until I just couldn’t feel any more. For a second I almost believe her, and part of me kind of still does.
“Pack your things and leave.”
The one who gave me life, the one who raised me to be the person I am now, the one person I thought I would never lose, I lost. The people that have told tell me that one day she will reach out, one day she will change her point of view. And I do appreciate all the kind words that they say, and how optimistic they seem. But they don’t understand, this woman, the woman who hasn’t had a relationship with her own sisters for more than 20 years because they are not in the same religion, this woman who lives and breathes what the Bible says, this woman, will not take me back.
I will never be able to sit down and have a pleasant conversation with her again. I will never be able to laugh with her again. I wont be able to be around her. She wont be in my life.
I would have loved to be one of those people that say, “well if she doesn’t love me for me then I don’t need her in my life”. But I am not. I love my mom. I will always even if she doesn’t accept me. She raised me by herself and did a great job. I could never complain about her.
This is the only thing that changed things. Maybe if she would have been a terrible mother then this would have been easy. But she wasn’t.
It started to hit me when I dropped my brother off at work. We talked a bit before he went in. Before then I hadn’t cried. Then when I saw him leave it all hit me like a bus. When will I see him? How will my mom treat him knowing that he knew this whole time? How will he cope with her being like that and me being gone?
I told him to please stay in touch. He said he would. And I hope with everything that I have that he wont have it too bad. And I hope that my mom can get over this. I know she wont accept me. I know. But I don’t want her to be hurting.
I don’t know when I will stop crying. But I want it to be soon because my eyes feel like I’m crying melted glass instead of tears.