My mama had left me.

Well, left us for two weeks to Mexico City, she said she had to go to get her residency and
wouldn’t be back for a while. My papa had gone with her.
I also remember my papa was the only one who came back.

Turns out that by two weeks she meant two years.

The only way I could talk to her was through a glass phone screen, I cried every night when
no one was listening. When we talked over the phone it was different then what I had
imagined, I didn’t feel comfortable telling her things anymore, since I couldn’t see her
physically in front of me.

I forgot how it felt to hug her, how she smelled, how she spoke. She always talked or asked
me questions like before but I just responded with a simple yes or no, we really grew apart.

It became silent when I went to visit her and it would always break my heart when we had
to come back home without her.

The last thing I saw before I got on the plane every time we visited was her crying face and
her hands over her mouth trying to hold in her quiet sobs.

Her face that almost looked lifelessly flushed but pale with the draining of her emotions.

She would always help me pack my stuff and drive us to the airport, and we would both cry.
Cry until my eyes were so swollen and red that I couldn’t properly see myself staring at my
own reflection.

I think we made more than ten very short trips to go see her in two years, most times I had
to see her crying herself to sleep when she thought I was sleeping . My dad always told me
that I was really strong to have lasted so long away from her.

It really broke my heart when she saw me coming to visit her and wouldn’t let me go until
the next day.

I didn’t want to see her suffer like this anymore so the next time I decided to stay home and
not visit her in hopes of
maybe saving us from crying another bucket of tears.
It made it easier on myself as well since I didn’t want it to hurt more when we left her
behind again, so instead I wrote my mama a letter, I gave it to my papa to deliver, I
wouldn’t see her expression when she read it but it was better to control my emotions this
way.

It was better to hold in the pain and not let anyone in towards my insecurities and conflicts
going on in my private life. I hadn’t experienced any type of loss but I know now I don’t
ever want to be motherless.