It Took me a Long Time

It took me a long time to get that it wasn’t your fault. All the mistakes you made were rather a man made ordeal. All the trips and stumbles and heavy shots at your back were not inflicted on yourself. I remember every single mistake, as if holding it against you will even remotely try to fix my broken heart. I can’t erase them because then I’d be changing the future, I can’t bury them because then I’d be burying your success, I can’t burn them because then I’d be burning the pictures you call memories, I can’t love them because then I’d be loving a monster. It took me a long time to get that it wasn’t your fault. I blamed my tears that rolled in the back of my head on your aching back. I blamed you for my episodes of defiance on your inability to make more money to buy me more things that I really didn’t need. I blamed you for my father leaving us the way he did, I blamed you for not staying in your place so that I could live comfortably. It took me a long time to get that it wasn’t your fault. I waited for something to get better, but you messed it up once again. It wasn’t fair that you could pause, fast forward, rewind and stop everything, so I whined and I cried and I hated and searched for any attention that was stolen from me. I hated controlled environments; I hated cages ,even if that meant the whole world had to be destroyed. And most of all, I hated you. I hated that you got everything and I was stuck, I hated how you always messed up yet  always found a way to make my mistakes worse than yours, I hated that way you used to laugh on the phone but not with me, I hated the way you called my name only for  a dish to be washed and crumbs to lifted off the ground, and windows to be cleaned and conversations to be ended. I hated the way you pressured me , because your hands pressing my body together could never mold me into the perfect little angel you see when you have glimpses of heaven on your most drunken nights. I hated the way you combed my hair, not because of my tangles and split ends, but the way you let him rip off the ponytail holder out of your bun to give him a better grip. It took me a long time to get that it wasn’t your fault. I saw you cry because Abulea didn’t love you, because daddy left you bankrupt, because co-workers didn’t respect you. I heard sounds that I shouldn’t hear, I listened to stories that haunted you as a child, I harkened to an aroma that entered my room, because the smell of smoke sounded like the constant fire alarm that keeps bursting through my skull, meanwhile you just continue to try and be yourself, when you really didn’t know who you were. It was so sad. It took me a long time to get that it wasn’t your fault. And behold the great queen who laughs down on her thrown at the peasants who seem like they are working but never really get the job done. And thank God for you hard work because, at least you tried even when trying was not good enough. And a least there was food and clothes on my back so the other kids wouldn’t make fun of me, yet I stared in the mirror for hours wondering why I was made so ugly. It took me a long time to get that it wasn’t your fault. You dressed my in pink’s and yellow’s and compared my to the sun because my fire burns brighter than the world could ever imagine. You thought so highly of me that I would never be bad in your eyes; I’d never have two faces, one looking up and one looking down. Down at my feet where I think I should be. And it only occurred to you that I was a miracle baby, someone you hold close and never let go. A diamond so shiny and so perfect and clear, the cloudiness on my rainy day never showed to my buyers, because all she ever let them see was how clean I was. It took me a long time to get that it wasn’t your fault, but when I did, i realized that as much as you and I might quarrel about the tiny things that are huge in our minds, we are a couple of people out of millions who might feel that same way.