Partners

The last two partners I had in my life thought I needed a family, but they were wrong. I wanted to live with them, I liked them to be involved in my life, but not the way they thought they wanted me involved with their loved ones, because these weren´t a must in my personal relationship with the woman I loved. I liked their children, they were kind enough with me and perhaps much more than my owns children, but I disliked the last ones wanted me to be in a close relationship seeking their approval and, additionally, taking care of their parental need$: That´s their father´s role, it wasn´t mine and ain´t good at it.

The people I like to be with are those I had a regular fellowship of ideas, sharing of thoughts or situations we somewhat sought and liked. Today I don´t have a deep relationship with my mom. I will not say I love her to die, because it is not that way and I care too little you think it differently, saying I must be a Christian or any of your Bla, Bla, Bla, because the one I had as a trustworthy friend was my dad, yet this last 3 or 5 years my mom has shown me a lot of things she has lived or experienced as a human being with her lovers or my dad.

I think I liked my dad because we had some habits in common, for listening to the music or enjoying reading and these things are quite opposite to those my mom has. I can listen to her things, her life stories, but these aren´t deep or thought provoking neither things I really enjoy listening too. She´s been hurt a way I don´t understand. She keeps counting records of old wrongs, she points out other´s faults and I don´t remember hearing her saying “Thank you!” or When I talked with my dad, I poured myself with him but, with my mother I don´t find an understanding, a safe sharing of feelings that, at my age, I don´t know what´s really missing between us.

I can listen to her, not more than an hour. When she tells me her dreams, many are a nightmare and I see her mind mingled in passed sorcery, mystic divination, her fears or hatred things that I prefer to drift from what she´s actually saying. Somethings we laughed, but nothing is deep or profound that I´m puzzled what we really missed.

Sometimes I remembered episodes I retold her. We usually remember dead members of her family, we briefly laughed at those things we´re reminded but, I feel that coldness I don´t know where it comes from neither how it´s there in between.

My sister came to visit her and there were more than 3 people gathered inside her bedroom. My sister asked my to be laid her bed, since her children were on it and I was the only one practically isolated and, if I wasn´t that reluctant, I knew my mom will not celebrate I sat in her Queen-size mat: My sister knew it and there was a dog at her bedroom entrance also. (She was kidding when she invited me to “have a seat” there).

I remember how much I liked her. When I was a child I liked her above all women I knew, because she was so beautiful; but something happened I don´t know well. Each weekend I wanted she visited my grandmother´s house and, obviously, she missed us up several times when she went another place, when I and my brother wanted to meet her during those days our childhood: She had her life apart from us, yet we reunited when we grew up and old. Is something missing here?

I don´t have deep love bonds with my family. The one I often miss is Alex, the girl who adopted me as father and, those I really loved (Josh & Joy) grew some another way I missed that I can´t hug or meet as much as I had liked when they were kids or teenagers: Elisha was not one of my favorite.

I can enjoy talking to strangers. I do like to talk with people but I don´t know why I cannot talk to my children with pure amusement or with complete entertainment. They´re so busy in their own business that I chose to follow up mine, instead. Monica asked me to do some effort to try to get them, somehow, but they looked distant, self-centered in the music they like, that I need to take their attention and bodies outside the places they normally live and, perhaps, that thing has something to do with my mom´s, since she likes the music I hate and the things I don´t do.

Whenever I´ve gone out with my mom, another place, I have liked the time we spent at lunch or when I helped her going to the doctor, she evenly insisted I should have eaten the same things she ate, but these memories faded off when she turns on the music or TV programs she likes to listen to... It seems there´s something more secular than I am, that I really regret while I´m here her home.

What were those things I didn´t like living with Monica or with Legna?

With Nik it was the lack of personal privacy, my personal space was invaded so easily... and with Flor she thought I had to cope with her children, as if I needed their liking or approval and both situations were slightly alike, at some extent.

I´m a hermit! But I like Alex´s kindness, particularly when she demands nothing in turns.

PS

Last night, before I published this, Legna phone called me for 2 hours... She´s receiving a minor medical treatment and wants to move out there, while she´s writing the chapter 13 of her novel: Don´t look back, man!