The Perfect Family?
A new start, a clean slate.
That's what I had promised myself.
One last chance to put all the pain and misery of the past behind me.
But if I have learned anything over the past year, it is that life rarely goes to plan; I should know that better than anyone. But what I did was fatal, I let myself hope again.
Only to have those hopes dashed, time and time again.
That was when it all started to unravel, and it was my fault entirely...
Guilt.
An emotion which has the ability to eat you up and make a blackness descend over all aspects of your life. Until you can't see anything else but the darkness.
Darkness, guilt and misery had such a hold.
But I didn't want this hold to ever let me go.
Because I had the feeling that if I let the guilt disappear; I would have nothing left; this was a lie.
I ended up being cold and letting my life slowly fold.
Unfeeling.
Unmoved.
I put up barriers, and pushed everyone away; when all I wanted to do was make them stay.
Even my husband who loved me so very much, had to go to someone else to be able to feel again, but I was so blinded by loss, I refused to see, I refused to accept.
So I made my family believe everything was okay; I was okay, everything would be okay.
But I couldn't see the effects or repercussions that my fake 'happiness was having on them.
But I realise now I was just deluding myself.
We are not 'A Perfect Family' at least not anymore.
We are a fragmented family.
A puzzle with misshapen pieces that no longer seem to fit; with a big piece missing in the middle that I fear we will never be able to find, so we will never be able to complete or whole again.
I never know where my daughter is; sometimes it feels like I've lost them both when I know I have only lost the one.
As for my son he is very closed off and introverted; I never know what is going on in his head or what he fears or what he might dread. He is the one I always rely on. He is the one I turn to when I feel I have no-one left.
Some people say I use my kids as a way to forget.
My only regret is that I never found out why and I doubt I ever will; why she thought she could never trust me.
Why she thought she had to run away to prove her point.
Every time I see somebody that resembles her, my body goes cold with goose bumps and for the merest of seconds I like to think it's her. It is these brief moments of hope that get me through each and every day. Every day I feel like my kids are slipping away; my biggest and darkest fear is that I will wake up one day and they won't be here. They will grow up, move away and I will still be in the same place that I always am; always wishing and hoping that my first born angel will come floating back to us.
Everyone is now moving on, the birthday ideas have gone stale; all of my vigils seem to fail. Sometimes I get angry about the way they have erased her from their memories, sometimes I am a little jealous of the way they push her aside; as she is always in the forefront of my mind.
If she graced us with her presence today; I would promise her that I wouldn't pressure her, she could come to me in her own time as long as I knew that everything was fine. I sometimes fear that my feelings will be like the rest of the family and that one day they will fade; that she will become an element of our past and a shadow will eventually be cast over her memory.
I sometimes wonder what she is doing
Is she safe?
Then I realise that all this was down to me; she ran away because I pushed her too hard. I nagged her continually and this is now my punishment.
Now when I look at our family photo's on the mantel piece; there is one of the four of us, but there is one of her in a frame next to it; disconnected and disjoined. It is inevitable that we will move on and things will be rearranged and changed.
But to me her memory will always be so strong; I will forever find it hard to completely move on
Our family needs her to come back; then the fragmented pieces of our lives will appear to be rejoined, if not perfected. The puzzle will magically fit into the pattern of our lives and our life will eventually become more shaped.
I will suddenly rise; become again the wife my husband has always desired. I will no longer feel so tired. The weight will be lifted off my shoulders and everything will fit back into place. There will be no horrible remarks or accusing looks left to face, because she will be back in her rightful place.
My final plea
Please come home to me.
By Amber Robinson 2011©