Start Again


blood (Photo credit: bedrocan)

I would like to know when it all starts.

When life actually begins. When your breath catches from astonishment. When your eyes are wide with wonder. When your heart beats fast with blood. When everything starts moving again.

But maybe when the blood that goes to your heart is paused, it can never be started again. Because everyone has always told me, “It will get easier with time.” But in reality, the more time goes on, the harder it gets.

The harder it gets to look at pictures and know that no more will be taken. To watch my friends’ mothers get them ready for dances. To look at my father with a drink in his hand. To see a strange woman become the focal point of my “family.” To see the rest of my family slip away into next-to-nothing.

To see her face fading away. To forget the smell of her perfume, the sound of her voice. To go through holidays without that love.

To realize that there is no one left to count on.

Please, if there’s one thing that anyone ever learns from me, I hope it is to appreciate your mother. Take pictures, even if she won’t let you. Memorize every piece of her, the whole picture. Don’t let her fade away.

Because fathers try. Friends come and go. Lovers never matter. There’s no one that will always be connected to you – except your mother.

And when they are gone and their blood, that gave you life, stops, so does yours. I’ve stopped. My life has stopped. My heart doesn’t beat when I kiss a boy, when I see a flame. I can have crushes and be attracted to hundreds of boys, but none of them will ever make my heart jump. I can come to the city of my dreams, but it will never matter. My blood is as cold and frozen as the harshest winter.

My life has stopped. I can have a million dreams, but the possibility of them seems absurd, because no one will ever tell me that they can come true, and I will never believe anyone that does.

My life has stopped. No matter what I do, nothing will matter. No matter how high of grades I get, how many awards, jobs, anything, all of it means nothing, because no one will ever truly be proud of me.

I never understood how much I loved my mother until I listened to her heart beats slow down to nothing.

So when will life start again?


About margaretviolet

"When choosing between two evils, I always like to try the one I've never tried before." - Mae West
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