I always thought that if my mother and I met in a different world, I would hate her
Because we are so very different from each other.
My mother laughs too easily and cries at commercials, and she’s guilable and soft
And so proud of all of it all
She would never pretend to be someone else.
I, on the other hand, don’t laugh very often
I’m cold and I have a different personality for every person I know
I am not easy to love, but my mother loves me so much.
But the more I think about it, the more I think I wouldn’t hate her
Instead, I would simply be indifferent.
In another life, we would pass each other in the grocery store
Her dragging a different daughter behind her
My hand in a different mother’s
There would be no recognition
No pull of fate to get us to stop
No desire in either of our hearts to talk to each other
We would simply pass by, our faces never even registering.
And if by some small chance, we did talk
We would both leave the encounter having no real impression of each other
I would think she was a bit ditzy
And she would think I was a bit pretentious
We would leave, and we would forget in
A week, a day, an hour, a minute
We would not even register.
And I think that indifference is worse than hate
Because what do you mean that the most impactful person in my life
Would have no impact on me at all in a different universe?
The person who spent hours in pain to give me a life worth living
Who has sacrificed everything for me
would just be another face in the crowd.
She always said that if me or my brothers had never been born
She would feel like something was missing from her
And I always laugh at that.
Because by marrying my father, she didn’t marry someone else
By having me, she forsook a different daughter
For each of my brothers, there are thousands of unborn versions of them
But instead, it is them who were born
And nothing is missing from her now.
She could even have passed one of those faces
and would have felt nothing but indifference
dededos
dailybridgerton
baratheonpilled
kianamaiart