He doesn't know who I am, and I'm his own mother. He goes day in an day out thinking that I don't love him, thinking that I'm incapable of feeling emotion, not knowing how much I long to communicate with him. God hasn't just cursed my son, he's cursed me too. What is a mother without the love of her child? I see the loneliness in his eyes and yet I can do nothing but cry inside. He doesn't know what I'm feeling, he doesn't know how much I want. I see him go out into the world searching for that someone that will teach him how to live and his role on this planet knowing that I can never provide him with the necessities he longs for. The fact that I can only show my love through physically saving him on occasion from harm in the world pains me in a way that he will never know. He suffers, but I do too.
I have this feeling inside that my baby has been hurt. He's different now; he's more violent, more cynical, increasingly agitated. What has the world done to my baby? There is nothing I can do but sit in my cave and watch the world slowly destroy him bit by bit. It's painful to watch his inevidable demise. Why can't I help him? Why must I have this blessed curse? Just once to talk to him, to tell him how I feel, to let him know he's not alone and unloved in this world. If only...
