Words for a stranger

Where’s  your mom?

                              Is that your mom?

                    Why is your aunt at a mother’s day party?

She’s …

     She’s working.

     She couldn’t make it.

She’s….

She’s in the army

She lives in Texas.

Do you get to see her often?

Why doesn’t she live with you?

Are your parents divorced?

I.. I..

How was that math test? Crazy hard right?

You didn't answer my question.

It doesn't bother me, at all. I have said that to myself for years now. So it must be true,, right? I have spent fifteen years without her so I really don’t know if I have accepted it or I have dealt with it. To even talk about it, or even write about it makes me feel uncomfortable. It feels as if I’m writing about something that I have no true understanding of. This happened on… what? When I was three? So to try and connect my feelings to something that happened fifteen years ago is impossible. I can’t possibly speak about someone that I never knew.

There’s flashbacks, memories I think. I truly don’t know if what I know of her is real. I am scared that the only playbacks in my head are made up. I am scared that I created them in order to have something to understand. I am scared that this all shaped me into who I am. I am petrified that I hold no clear feelings toward her.

Did I love her?

Did I have the chance to love her?

If she was to come back and speak to me,  would she like what she sees?

Am I the person she wished I’d become?

Would she love her much older little girl?