Saturday, August 13, 2011

I am not strong, Mama

Dear Mama,

How are you? I know I haven’t been writing as often as I used to do, Mama. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t blame it on the disconnected internet connection at home, I admit it has nothing to do with that. It’s just that oftentimes, every time I attempt to write you a letter, I can’t think of anything without whining… complaining… and saying how I miss you and how much I wish you were here.

There were even times when I think about stopping writing all these letters for good. It’s not because I don’t want to talk to you or think of you anymore. It’s just that I am not even sure if I am still making sense, and sometimes, I even think that my letters are disturbing you when you should be resting.

I don’t know, Mama. I still haven’t gotten used to it really… being alone, I mean. There are times that I wish I can really talk to you… about a lot of things, about what’s happening to me and the kids, and hear your thoughts about it. There are times when I only wish you were here, just so I could hold your hand and embrace you.

I am not strong, Mama. I’m tired of faking it. Trying to fool everyone, especially myself, that I am in control and I can take care of things. To be honest, things have gone worse and the hurdles are getting taller while I get weaker.

Things have never been the same around here, Mama. I miss you.

I love you.