(no subject)

There was a little that came before this, but I cannot remember it for the life of me. So, all that is available here is what I typed when I had 30 minutes available to me, and nothing else to do.

I'm sorry for those of you who don't know the story, or who only know parts, or who can somewhat guess from this little thing but don't get the whole thing. Once this was typed, I had typed myself out.

I feel like there should be something I can say to dispute why I should be happy dispite all this, but I can't find a logical reason... What I do know, is that I am still sad. I do have people who love me, but I also have the thought that maybe Cynthia didn't love me, or didn't love me enough... What if her dislike for my dad, or the fact that they didn't get aong, was stronger than her love for me? She didn't even mke an effort to keep in touch. And when Willa officially adopted me, they leagally had to have Cynthia's permission. So they sent letters to the last places she was known to have been. and we didn't hear from her. We don't know if that's because she never got those letters, because she is else where, or if she ignored them. Now, not to say that she did ignore them, but the possibility is still there. I suppose you wouldn't now what it feels like to think that perhaps one of your parents doesn't care enough to want to stay with you, get to know you, watch you grow up? She left, basically without a good bye. Or I can't remember this goodbye if there was one. That's not a fun thought to have. In fact, it's rather a disheartening one. Leads to all sorts of things that all seem to say what if I'm someone that people can't love? Now, before you say that that isn't true, I know that. Willa loves me, my dad loves me, but my own mother? It's all enough to make any person feel alone and unwanted.

You know that I can hardly really remember a time when she paid more attention to me, than to my little half brother? Favorite-ism.

And being that I only had a short time with my mother, and I'm going to assume that she knew this, and did not wake up one day thinking that she was going to leave that day, that perhaps, just perhaps she would have said something nice, or something. One of my only memories is her letting me try in the shoes she wore for her wedding. And that smile. But after that, she kinda fades. I do remember that I had nightmares at her house one night... I remember being afraid to go to her and tell her that I was scared. I was unsure that she would do anything. And so I sat outside my room, in the middle of the night, at age 3 or thereabouts, until I could no longer remember the nightmare, and then crawled back into bed.

She took my half brother with her. I don't even knw if there was a thought of whether she would take me as well. Who knows, I never heard of it anyway.

I never hear of stories about my babyhood. Maybe my father doesn't like talking about her. Some of you know, that I have a thing about adults crying. It scares me. It scares me terribly. After the divorce, between Cynthia and my dad, I found my dad crying. That's why it scares me. I don't like it one bit. Chances are, I start crying too, and then I'm no use to help console this person.

And as I hear from friends, I'm nerly a carbon copy of my mother. We could be sisters. I wouldn't know, I can't really remember what she looked like.

Now, to amend soethings I hav already said, I do know that she loved me at least a little. There are pictures of us together, when I was a baby, and she is cooing over me. All these pictures were taken while my parents were still together however. I have a coupe of my mother an I, and my half brother, after my parents split up, and she is always looking at him. It's like a drastic change of behavior. And not a very comforting one either.

It's nice to know that I have a pretty strong resemblence to my mother though. If nothing else I'll always have that connection to her, which, in itself is almost enough to make me happy again.

This particular story of my life, the one concerning my mother, is one that I consider a very large part of my core, of who I am, and who I will be. And I recently discoverd that I don't tell people that part of who I am. And that was a very shocking discovery. I'm not even sure how much Liza knows of it. And to tell the truth, I hadn't thought about her in a long, long time. And now, the dam has been opened, and the river is about to flood the little valley town inside my heart, that I have built to keep me safe. That haven is no longer safe. I have no safe place to withdraw.

And that's not as it sounds. I don't withdraw all that often. It's not a pleasant thing to do. But, it was always there when I needed comfort and could find no one to give it to me.

Willa told me that she has no problem with trying to find Cynthia, if I ever want to. And I don't know. I do want to, but I'm terribly scared. As I said, she smoked a ton, what if she did get lung cancer an die? It isn't that hard of a thing to stretch my imagination to, especially since her sister, her younger sister, got lung cancer and died. What if the way I find her, is I find her grave? I really don't think that would be something I could handle. I want to see her again, to tell her that even though she left me, and even though I haven't seen her for the longest ime, and even though there were times when I felt that she didn't love me, I forgive her, and I still love her. If only because she is my mother, and I owe her my very existance.

Can you imagine seeing you mother leave, not see her for at least 7 years, and then the next time you see her is her grave? I think I'm already scarred from this past of mine, on a very deep level, perhaps one that is not so evident to the people around me, but I think that I would be emotionally scarred to a point where everyone would know that I was hurt.