Sometimes I hope that I am wrong about the world and that God really does exist. Not so I can attain an afterlife, but so I can smile and ask him why the irony in my life. Why bless me with a solitary instinct, why make me arrogant and prideful, why make me the embodiment of all the things he was not but fill me with the compassion and sense of self sacrifice of Jesus himself. I always feel like this angel who used his wings to protect those he loved just to have his wings ridiculed by those he saved afterwards. I really wish I could ask him these things.
I have a single mother. I have never been ashamed of it, I had no control over my birth, but luckily she still lived with my grandparents when she had me allowing me to grow up in a loving enviroment. Sure I was whipped occasional with a belt when I was naughty or yelled at but wasn't that every child? Eventually though she found a man who promised her the world and she was so happy. We moved in with him when I was about seven or eight and my mom as so happy. I however was miserable. As far as he was concerned, I was worthless, a bastard, a sloth. ... How he taunted me with words and they stung, but to my mother he showed nothing but kindness. He gave her a home and food and love. Who was I to take that away from her? So I kept my mouth shut and slowly let apart of me fall away to make the word snot sting and my left wing sprouted itself to cover that side.
I hid it from my mom so she could be happy. But a falling out led to her once again being on her own. We moved back in with grandma and grandpa but to my dismay I could not make my mom happy. She needed a man I knew this and she knew this. She was depressed and I did my best to cheer her up but a 9 year old can only do so much. Then as luck would have it, she finds a new man, and she was happy again. Since she was happy, I was happy and we moved in with someone else yet again. He was even worse. He worked out of home with some internet buisness making lots of money. he could provide for my mom. Nice clothes, a good house, and more love then a child could give their mom so once again for her, I could deal with it, who was I to deny her happiness for my own sake. To see her come home each day with that look of "I love life", just made it worth it to live with him, to hide belt and fist bruises, to act happy, to not mourn my pet turtle who was killed with an axe in front of me when I fed it some of the "good lettuce" instead of the bad lettuce.
I would sacrifice more of myself for her and slowly another part of myself fell away leaving me an emotionless cold husk of a person with my other wing proudly out and blocking the horrible things from my mother. I knew if I failed, she would no longer be happy. The problem is, the things I shed for her cannot be reclaimed. My innocent is gone, my happiness and emotions are shattered and when this relationship too fell away and she was left alone with her son, she could do nothing but search my eyes and go 'Who are you..". Isn't it amazing how of all the things in the world I have felt and experienced, something so simple as that would hurt the most. So now I live with my mother, a housemate. I am no longer her son. I shed so much for her that I shed her son as well. And I feel so cold and bitter because of it, to hear her wails and cries over her "dead" son and the anger at this intruder in his body. I can't even remember what it feels like to be the old Demian, so maybe there is truth to her words.
Ironic isn't it? Like the shield that protects the knight from all manners of danger only to one day crack, cut it's master and kill him. So this is my life, the invader in my mothers life, the thing though is I can shed nothing else to make her insults not hurt. Just hide behind my wings. People say I put walls up around myself but I see it as a survival instinct I am very good at. Then you look around and realize the walls hold you prisoner. Ironic, huh?
I have a single mother. I have never been ashamed of it, I had no control over my birth, but luckily she still lived with my grandparents when she had me allowing me to grow up in a loving enviroment. Sure I was whipped occasional with a belt when I was naughty or yelled at but wasn't that every child? Eventually though she found a man who promised her the world and she was so happy. We moved in with him when I was about seven or eight and my mom as so happy. I however was miserable. As far as he was concerned, I was worthless, a bastard, a sloth. ... How he taunted me with words and they stung, but to my mother he showed nothing but kindness. He gave her a home and food and love. Who was I to take that away from her? So I kept my mouth shut and slowly let apart of me fall away to make the word snot sting and my left wing sprouted itself to cover that side.
I hid it from my mom so she could be happy. But a falling out led to her once again being on her own. We moved back in with grandma and grandpa but to my dismay I could not make my mom happy. She needed a man I knew this and she knew this. She was depressed and I did my best to cheer her up but a 9 year old can only do so much. Then as luck would have it, she finds a new man, and she was happy again. Since she was happy, I was happy and we moved in with someone else yet again. He was even worse. He worked out of home with some internet buisness making lots of money. he could provide for my mom. Nice clothes, a good house, and more love then a child could give their mom so once again for her, I could deal with it, who was I to deny her happiness for my own sake. To see her come home each day with that look of "I love life", just made it worth it to live with him, to hide belt and fist bruises, to act happy, to not mourn my pet turtle who was killed with an axe in front of me when I fed it some of the "good lettuce" instead of the bad lettuce.
I would sacrifice more of myself for her and slowly another part of myself fell away leaving me an emotionless cold husk of a person with my other wing proudly out and blocking the horrible things from my mother. I knew if I failed, she would no longer be happy. The problem is, the things I shed for her cannot be reclaimed. My innocent is gone, my happiness and emotions are shattered and when this relationship too fell away and she was left alone with her son, she could do nothing but search my eyes and go 'Who are you..". Isn't it amazing how of all the things in the world I have felt and experienced, something so simple as that would hurt the most. So now I live with my mother, a housemate. I am no longer her son. I shed so much for her that I shed her son as well. And I feel so cold and bitter because of it, to hear her wails and cries over her "dead" son and the anger at this intruder in his body. I can't even remember what it feels like to be the old Demian, so maybe there is truth to her words.
Ironic isn't it? Like the shield that protects the knight from all manners of danger only to one day crack, cut it's master and kill him. So this is my life, the invader in my mothers life, the thing though is I can shed nothing else to make her insults not hurt. Just hide behind my wings. People say I put walls up around myself but I see it as a survival instinct I am very good at. Then you look around and realize the walls hold you prisoner. Ironic, huh?
welcome to our family Demian! i'm dee 
U will be a wonderful man in the future , but before that day, u must get a lot people to help u. and believe me, God will do it, He is starting it to motivate u to seek.
