Fragments of Us

It's not your fault,now read it again.

Everything you have ever done,all the choices you have ever made are probably the best you thought you could do at that given time.You can only see as far as your eyes can.

Not everything that feels familiar is going to be safe for you.

Sometimes, you'll have to let one person go a thousand different times, a thousand different ways, and there's nothing pathetic or abnormal about that. You are human.

I think the beauty of being human is uncertainty.

I have learnt that there there is fleeting love and the love that stays,the fleeting love will carry you through some of the hardest phases but won't necessarily carry you through out,

Outgrowing and letting go of love is one of the toughest pages but something in you grows.

It’s true, the absence of love changed me,

It taught me to build walls and question if I was worthy.

It made me search for love in places I didn’t belong,

And it made me fragile when I wanted to be strong.

My mother's arms were my only refuge,the one i would gladly stretch out after i was locked in our room the whole day,no one was there to watch me,we wanted to have it our own way.I would religiously wait for her to come home,my sweet home.

When i slept i made sure the cuddles were tighter because i was scared that maybe if i didn't hold her closer then the world would rob us of each other.I was only a baby.I didn't deserve all that and so i don't deserve to beat myself for it.

Time moves so fast,fleeting thing, like a dream half-remembered.

I grew like a flower, yearning for light,

But the sun, my mother’s love, was far from sight.But even the hands, too soon, slipped away like mist.It was no longer about the pancakes she would make for me out of love and i would swear they tasted different everytime , it was like the voice on the phone, the only time i felt close to the love that felt so far away.

And in those brief moments,i felt the warmth of love again but it was always too brief, too distant.The phone would click and the silence would return,

But sometimes the call doesn’t come,work held my mom up again or the time difference got too hard to manage.I tell myself it’s okay,that i understand.I was able to understand that it was unbearable for her as much as it was for me and that she was doing it for me.

Reminding me that even love could be a memory.

I tried to remember the exact sound of her laughter, the warmth of her touch, but time distorts it all, leaving you with a hollow version of what once was.I was missing her.

As days went by i learnt how to not include my mother in my daily life,I watched other kids at school,how they laughed so easily,how they talked about their moms picking them up later.

I listen but i never join in.

It hurts too much to explain why my life doesn’t look like theirs.I didn't have the answers either.

Left behind, in the shadows of homes that were never my own,I wandered from hand to hand,each one colder than the last.

Faces changed, but the darkness remained the same,no one validated my feelings as long as my mother would pay at the end of the month.

And in that darkness, i learnt the weight of silence.I moved from one place to another,a nomad in a world that offered no home,everyone wanted to change me to fit the exact imagination in their minds.

My heart grew heavy with loneliness and i thought that maybe being quiet would make people love me a little more,

My childhood trauma didn't make me stronger; it made me a master of silence, suppressing the emotions inside. I learnt to wear strength like armor, while my heart quietly broke beneath the weight of unspoken pain.

I just wanted to come home to my mother's warmth like how mother hen covers her chicks but i was met with cold stares,the stare one gives you after finding out you said something to your mother.

I tiptoed around people who thought they knew me,who thought they were doing enough by giving me a bed,a meal, a place to exist.

But existence isn’t enough.

I learnt that long ago.

Broken homes raise broken kids.