She took her own life.
Was it hard to raise me on her own?
Was I that oblivious to her pain?
The loneliness I caused.
The anger she felt when she saw me, my father’s face looking back at her.
Mom, I have your face now.
I have your eyes.
Dad says I look like you now.
Not him.
Mom, why didn’t you tell us how unhappy you were?
Did you think we wouldn’t care?
That we would try to rationalize your feelings?
You took your life mom.
You didn’t trust us.
You couldn’t tell us.
So you suffered alone.
Our love wasn’t enough to save you.
What would have saved you, mom?
I couldn’t.
Dad couldn’t.
What would have saved you, mom?
Was it death?
Death couldn’t even save you.
Death killed you, mom.
So you took your own life.