The Fool & His Mother

Growing up is tricky business. Who you are, and what you will be. Nurture or nature? A bit of both. I think so. The media you consume, the friends you make, the people you meet. How they treat you, what they say to you, how they hold you, how they hurt you.

Growing up was tricky, as I look back. As I'm not sure what went wrong. Let me tell you. Maybe we can figure this out. Or as normal, get farther from the answer from when we started. My dad when raising me was tough. I got the belt, he smacked my mouth when I would swear. I couldn't leave the table till I was done with my food. My dad wouldn't let me leave the table for hours till I was done. But he taught me how to take care of my first dog, he showed me how to ride a bike, he was encouraging, when I said I wanted to learn to skate board. He would take me to the mall and show me bikini magazines. (One step foward) My mother was more caring. She always kissed me and hugged me, she always bought me every toy I wanted. And she would give me almost anything asked for, and wouldn't argue. I didn't ask for much. But you'll see. Everything was normal. Till I turned 8. My mom came into my room one morning and told me to pack my stuff. She told my sister the same. In one hour my mom got us in the car. And we dove for a few days I think. From one side of the country to the other to my grandmother's apartment. I didn't know what happened at the time. And I also thought it didn't have any effect on me. I didn't care. But the effects were there. I suddenly found myself surrounded by only women. My grandmother, my mother and my sister. My mom was in charge. She worked all the time. And she had no time for me and my sister. I stayed in my room playing video games. My sister later on was always out the house hanging out with friends. That was all set up. What I really wanted to talk about with the second one of my life. Rose. My teacher from middle school. Losing almost all attention from my mother. I believe my young self longed for that motherly love I was being neglected. So I found myself constantly reaching out towards older women. First my library teacher. In 4th and 5th grade. I'd spent after-school hours in the library talking with her. We became friends. Even years after I left. I went visit her 3 to 4 times a year. She was like a mother to me. And I loved her as a mother. But she wasn't rose. In middle school I did this again. And the same with Isabella. There was a dam reaching its breaking point. When I met rose, she was just my teacher. After a month at school I asked her if it was ok if I could stay after school with her. To help clean the classroom. She asked me why. And I told her that when I go home, I do nothing productive, I don't do home work, I just lay in bed and play video games. She agreed. She said I could stay. So almost everyday of my first year I stayed after school with her. And we'd talk about life, listen to the radio together, talk about family. We almost never talked about school. But it took one and a half years till this day broke. I walked into class one day and saw her there sitting at her desk while the rest of my classmates took their seats. And she looked different. At that moment she became the most beautiful woman in the world. Although we remained friends. That's all we ever were. I understood the reality of the situation. So I never told her how I felt. And once again. This wasn't love. Not how love should be. To this day I still think about her. Even for only a moment every day. She is still in my thoughts. I'd reckon I had an unhealthy obsession over her. That's a possibility. Of course. But the reason I believe I fell in love was many things. She taught me things about life. She showed care towards me. She spent more time with me. And as far as I was aware. She never lied to me. She was a mother to me. The mother I wanted. My mother is not to blame for not being able to give me her time. But she was to blame for so much. She never disciplined me. Never told me to clean my room. Never punished me. When I told my mom I didn't want to go to school, she listened to me. I was spoiled, undisciplined, tired and depressed. I came to a point where I realized I was so terrible and selfish that I began to self discipline. I had no one to put me in my place. So I had to learn to punish myself. I did this so often, that this would evolve into my most destructive outlet for my insecurities. Something Moonlight and Kate know very well.

All this. Growing up. My parents separating, All the time spent with and around and living with women. In school, bullied, weak, shy, passive, kind, and far to nice. I never fitted in with any boys my age, they were rough and talked about things I didn't find interesting. So women were the friends I was always comfortable with. Older women were always my want and my need. The need for a motherly love. So what's the truth of it. I have a mother complex. That's where it started. That's how it's been. I wonder if that's how it'll stay. Or if that's how it will always be. I wonder where the answer to this complex of Mines ends. Want and need, lack of needing. And want to having. Never having. And wanting everything. A fool wants everything. A fool wishes he didn't know he lives in reality. And That's just one side. Than there is my father. That's another story.