Don't Go

Mom,

You're standing behind me drying my hair, as we watch a tv show about dream weddings for people who've had what you call "taste for champagne but a Coca Cola salary." You say, jokingly, that all you remember of my wedding day is my few words and the tears that wouldn't stop as I sat in my room all dressed up, in the dark. I try to laugh...but only a small, dry chuckle comes out with a quiet "heh. Yeah."

Tears have been quietly streaming down my face for about 30 minutes now and you finally noticed, as you brushed hair out of my face. You kissed my forehead and you just look at me waiting for me to tell you why I'm so sad. But, how can I tell you what's wrong? That my heart is completely broken by the past and the present. You're my mom. You've been my best and sometimes my only friend. How many more moments like this do we have left? How can I tell you I'm slowly but steadily losing my dreams...my happiness...my life? Why should I put my sadness on your shoulders when you need me to smile and pretend I'm happy and ok and strong? You want nothing more than to believe I have a happily ever after in store for me in the future. That's what would make you have a good night's sleep. To know your daughter is loved and happy and not alone. That she's just emotional because the dream wedding show is demonstrating that good things happen to good people.

I can't make the tears stop now. And the silence is growing uneasy. So here I go hiding my face in my phone until I can regain composure. Because all I can tell you is that my heart hurts like I've never felt it hurt before...and we've been through some tough crap...yet nothing us killing my soul like this. All I can tell say is that I am afraid of losing you soon and I'm devastated if I lose my heart for good. That I'm standing in the middle of a room asking the different people that make up my heart "Please, don't go?"...but, all I really am becoming is just something forgettable...part of the background. Invisible. Mute. Nothing.

Please. Don't go.