Poetry From The Heart

I Love You

The words on the screen of my phone frighten me.
Not because the words themselves intimidate me, but because I don't know how to respond.
"I love you."
The words are clear, along with the meaning.
I continue to just stare down at the screen of my phone, watching the custom colored green chat bubble holding black letters that say the words I cannot seem to respond to.
They're words from my mother, her smile on the profile picture makes me feel as though I'm at home, safe.
But the words still remain on my screen.
A knowing fear, I have to respond, comes up.
I sigh, typing a message and evaluating it.
"Yeah."
I delete the word and retype a different response.
"I love you, too."
I, again, delete the words.
I groan to myself, hating how uncomfortable I am with the words my mother says so confidently.
Repeatedly, I type the words and delete them, two different responses, but which to choose?
Why do I struggle with this?
Because I've always reserved the words for romanticism.
The love I share for my mother is different, not of passion and love-lust, but of compassion and adoration.
How can I say the words when I believe they mean something different?
Frustration builds in the pit of my stomach, making bile rise in my throat.
How do I say I love her without saying the words?
Sighing and running a hand through my hair, I stare, hopefully blankly to the rest of the world, at the illuminated screen in the palm of my hand.
I check the time in the corner of the screen, a minute has passed since she sent the message.
"I love you."
The words seem bold amongst the rest of the messages.
I turn the screen of my phone off, partly in frustration and partly in exhaustion.
My boyfriend notices my expression, surely not knowing why it is I'm this way.
He says nothing but I know he wants to know.
"The words 'I love you,'" I say with a heavy sigh. "I've always reserved them for people I felt romantic to," I look at him with a small smile and he nods for me to continue.
"My mom says the words to me everyday, I never know what to say, how to respond. How do you respond to a person you truly do love but cannot say the words to? Do you say the words you don't believe or do you stay silent and let that person engulf themselves in guilt?"
He sighs, rubbing my shoulders gently, "you love the person, don't you? Despite it not being romantically?" I nod, he smiles. "Then, say the words. It's okay to say it if you mean it, Rosa. It might not be romantic, but it's true." He smiles again and turns away, leaving me with those words.
I open the messages on my phone again, staring at the words that haunted me.
I type a different response, despite his words of advice to me.
"I miss you, mama. I'll see you later. :)"
Closing the messages and turning the screen off, I feel a sense of closure.

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Before you say it, I know. The ending... Well, it sucks.

It always happens when I work on a poem one day and then skip a few days and then finish it, it's like I can't remember how I wanted to end it and every other possible ending just... Isn't the same.

Maybe you'll understand that, hopefully.

But, hopefully you enjoyed this sucky poem.

Thank you for reading, remember to vote, comment and share if you please.

Rosa Vazquez.