I tried

A mother on her death bed, still trying to manipulate her children and drive wedges between them

                     

                   I TRIED

I tried to love you, but the price is too high. To love you meant not loving anything or anyone else. Little did I know to be used like a bartering tool, you setting the price and me willing to pay..whatever the cost. Knowing the only reason my presence is tolerated in your life, is not to make amends or attrition, but to make some use of me for your benefit. How dare I get married and love my husband. Never did I love you any less. What was I thinking becoming a mother, after all

how can I love my child with my whole heart.  Never have I loved you less. Your definition of love is twisted and warped.  Buried under years of resentment, anger, jealousy and bitterness. Your brand of love is using the object of your love as a whipping post.  A whipping post inside and out. What right did I have to love myself? Never meant I loved you any less. What is wrong with me wanted more than displaying such a devotional love for you so that loving anything else becomes second tier. Scraping for the scraps of what you call love is not good enough. It never has been and never will be. Use whatever justifications you need to help you close your eyes, but I’ve got news for you; I love my husband and my son. They are my life. I love my brothers and sisters they are my touch stones. Above all else I love myself. There is no charge to any of them for my love because I give it, wholeheartedly, selflessly, and unconditionally. I will always love these people infinitely more than you. Yet the love I have for you has never diminished, but it will never grow.

Author's Note

this could be anyone's story