I remember when I was about 12 years old, I prayed to God to spare my brothers from this hell, to make them happy, and that I would take all the yelling and emotional abuse that my mother was causing. I did not want them to go through that pain.
I could never count on her for anything, I could never tell her a secret because she would yell at me. I could not ask for advice because she will tell me that it was a stupid possibility and why in the world am I thinking that way. She judged me, she yelled, she was angry and would tell all her friends that there is something wrong with me.
I was counting the months for me to be 18yrs old and to leave and never comeback. I was so naïve,I can never get away from her, I can never be far enough from her. Not even after death. After all, she is my mother……
I was never able to open up about my feelings with my friends and I have never talked about this with anyone else. I guess it’s much easier through this medium because no one knows who I am.Except for my best friend that occasionally reads my blog. I guess I am ready to talk about this now.
Mi mama, mi mama, mi mama, was fucking driving me crazy. I wanted to fucken snap and drive, drive away and never ever comeback. I lived with her for awhile, until she started complaining. Why was I still living at home? I thought are you fucking kidding me? First you ask me to live with you and now that you don’t need me anymore you fucken toss me away? I was mouthy as hell. I would say shit that made her feel stupid in front of other people. I was cynical; I had a sarcastic way of saying things, trying to be diplomatic but straight to the Jugular. I could not swear in front of her, because fucken good girls don’t do that…. So sick of that shit.
An opportunity came up to come to Canada. Well, it was more like a guy. I met him online, we talked for about 8 to 9 months on the phone, webcam, we exchanged pictures, phone sex, etc...
I knew he would be trouble, I just had a feeling… I guess I made myself believe that I loved him... I was exited about talking to him. He was soooo good looking, with beautiful eyes and lips. He was very manly, I was infatuated. We were very different. I was a good Christian girl, he was Muslim, I did not drink nor smoke, he 420 all the way. We had nothing in common. Maybe the only thing in common was that we were both confused and were looking for something different. Maybe we were looking for love.
