My mother loathes her mother. It confused me at first. Still it suprises me at times. Does she not consider her mother's hardships? What about everything her mother sacrificed for her? What about everything that i considered to make me forgive my mother?
My mother hit me sometimes when I was a child. It wasn't too often or too bad.
Still somehow I grew up broken.
Perhaps, as she says, i was always broken.
I don't think my mother was supposed to be a mom. I see her as a child. A child who's whims I must entertain. Seeing her cry drowns me with such guilt there's little in this world that can keep me breathing after.
I can't love. That's the broken in me.
My mother loathes her mom. My mother made me loathe her.
I can never allow myself to birth a life. I can never allow the inevitable knowing it.
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