Letters of Myls Valentine

To My Mom:

You were always watching but from afar.

Your intentions were true, but I didn't understand it back then. I still don't.

Well, I do. But only to a certain level.
You were never the best mom, but you tried your best. I guess part of that was because it all started with you.

You were the one who picked to have another family. You were the one who left us. You left dad to be shattered and left me to long for a mother's true love.

I was a kid; I didn't understand any of this shit.

All I understood was jealousy. Jealousy over others having a whole family, every school event with their parents buying them food or playing with them.

All I understood was the loneliness that ate me every time a bully would say I'm the reason why you left us; because I'm not normal. Because I'm different.

All I understood was the weight of the world on my shoulders and the insurmountable amount of depression I had in my heart. It felt heavy throughout every day, trying to understand the meaning of what everything meant, why things were happening, why I always felt so alone.

And all this wouldn't have happened if you stayed, if I felt your love as a mother, if I felt your arms around me, cradling me in your arms as I told you all my problems and cry my problems away.

But instead, I got a father who was gone, off to work, only coming back to sleep, and a mother, who I rarely see, miles away for a hug, a mother's consolation.

Instead, I got an empty space in my heart always longing for someone to fill it up.

Instead, I never got contentment, always looking for something better, since I never got the best from the people who were supposed to guide me.

Instead of happiness, I got a string of never-ending anxiety and depression, forever asking myself; am I ever enough?

Instead of a mother's love, I had your shadow which I can barely light up.

But it's okay now.

I understand it better, now.

You were never happy with Dad; it would just be worse if you stayed, constantly bickering from day and night.

You left me to my grandmother, not because you don't love me but to have better guidance. You knew leaving me to your mother would be worse.

You weren't a great example, but you sure as hell tried to be one.

I love you, mom. I always will. But I just wish you had more time for me; to explain how the world worked; to tell me everything gonna workout someday; to tell me how smart I was, motivate me through every day; to tell me how much you loved me.

Then maybe, just maybe, everything would've been a little bit better.