I know it hurts.
And I don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the sadness that paralyzes you; the sadness that makes you feel like you’re pushing yourself forward just to go through the motions.
I am sorry for the pain that stings you, and makes you feel like I am pouring salt right onto your open wounds. I am sorry for the doubt that plagues you; the doubt that makes you feel like love is a risk that’s no longer worth taking.
I feel like it’s my fault.
I tried for a really long time to protect you; I built a wall as high as those that rise up around castles, strong and thick enough to keep a tempest of emotions at bay. I promised you that I would keep you safe, that I wouldn’t let harm come your way, that no one could get in unless we really wanted him to — unless we were ready.
But how prepared could we have been? It happened all in the blink of an eye, and suddenly there was this new warmth to you, like cookies fresh out of the oven.
Piece by piece, the walls came down, or maybe day by day you just grew bigger and fuller. And then one night you just burst through. I tried to talk to you, and I tried to be level-headed with you. “Be careful,” I warned. “You’re treading new territory. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
You wouldn’t have any of it; I was scared for you, but you felt so confident. You stood as powerful, yet as vulnerable as ever, and you found your voice. I listened as the feelings materialized, as the words ran through the air like you were crossing a finish line. You were steady, prepared and proud.
It felt beautiful; you and I agreed on that. The wall was down, and promises were made by everyone involved. I took one last measure, one last step to keep you safe: “Promise me,” you said, “That you won’t break me.”
“I promise.”
That was that: You were sold. You were running through the hills singing, splashing through ocean waves, drinking in the sun and the sky and sparkling with the night stars. You were young and free, and the rubble from the broken walls looked like pebbles in the distance.
You were folding over in smiles, you danced to the beat of a new drum and developed a rhythm that only love could create. You were just so far gone.
I should have kept my wits about me, I should have kept you from wandering too far astray, but life happened too fast. The love was overwhelmingly blinding, and for the longest time you were so happy, until one day I wasn’t.
The first lie came, and then there was another. I listened to his words, but you felt his touch. I think something is wrong here, I tried to tell you. I know you’re in love, but I think that something just isn’t right.
But you were already in an embrace; you dived into what you thought was the best place to keep you safe, the place where you would be most protected, where nothing could hurt you. You didn’t want to listen to me.
I’m sorry you felt like you could stay there forever. I’m sorry you felt like it was a refuge that was all yours. I’m sorry you felt like nothing could reach you there. I guess sometimes there is something scary in feeling so safe.
I thought I lost you when it first happened. I couldn’t feel you; you had disappeared into nothing. Are you okay? I felt like I was shouting at the top of my lungs at you.
For a while I wondered whether it was possible to live life without a pulse. Please come back! Please! I kept yelling. I wasn’t sure whether I was yelling that for your sake or mine.
Then you hit me with that core-shattering cry of yours. You were like an anchor that just sank to the bottom of deep, dark ocean waters. You throbbed with sadness and there was nothing I could do for you.
I felt so helpless; I just wanted to scoop you up and tell you it was all going to be okay, but I didn’t know if you trusted me anymore. I didn’t know if you trusted anyone anymore.
I know you still feel heavy and you try to put on a brave face sometimes. It was for the best, I try to tell you. You deserve so much more, so much better, I try reassure you.
Sometimes you nod approvingly like you get it, or we are on the same page. Sometimes you feel your way back to a moment in time, and you turn to me, this battered, beaten shadow of yourself, with heavy eyes and a silent stream of tears. Leave me alone, you pound back at me.
Please know that it takes time, and you are doing so well. You are so ridiculously strong. None of it was easy, but I am proud of you. It’s hard to face the world feeling the way you do sometimes, but please, just keep at it.
Know that love is a beautiful, scary thing, but that it isn’t something to fear or be afraid of. There is light in all darkness, and if there is anything that I can promise you, it’s that this, too, shall pass. This won’t last forever.
You may find yourself hurt again in the future, or you may find yourself perfectly wrapped up in the arms of forever.
But you’ll never know unless you try.
Mom and Son 