You were the only thing on my mind. Your face, the pain in your eyes as we spat words of hate at each other, the feeling of regret that burned in the pit of my stomah as I realized who we had become. That was the only thing playing on my mind as I descended the stairs, and walked out of the front door into the cold night. I could feel a constant sting at the back of my throat that sent sharp pains down my body, as I breathed in the bitter air. It reminded me of the tears I shed in my bedroom, as I sat on the edge of my bed and thought about the things that we said. The things I should have said.
I wondered, as I walked down the pitch black road to the end of the street, if you remembered the way we used to be. How I could confide in you about anything and everything. How you use to play with my hair whenever the world had beaten me down, and I was so close to giving up on myself. You were always there by my side, every step of the way for the first fifteen years of my life.
But, since that night, I have lost the ability to feel your presence beside me as I walk along this road we call life. Are you even there? Or have you left me alone?
I reach out for the lamp post at the corner of the street, the one we use to use as a starting point for our daily run, and glanced back at the house where I knew you sat waiting for me. I can see the dim light of you're bedside lamp shimmering through the window on the top floor. You're probably in bed, restless from a days work, waiting for me to cuddle up beside you and aplogoise for everything I said to you. But, am I sorry? Do I even feel that this is my fault?
I do not know. I know I'm not perfect, and I know I make a lot of mistakes. I know I love you more than anything in this world. But is this my fault?
The light shining through your window switches off, meaning you have given up waiting for me. I want to run to you. I want you to hold me in your arms and tell me everything is going to be ok. But what would you say when I walked in? How would you react? Would you welcome me with opening arms or push me away?
I take a step forward in the snow, my arm still viced around the metal post, and watch a figure step out onto the porch leaving the front door open. They're looking around frantically with their arms tucked tightly around them as the icy temperature hits them, calling my name.
"Bella!"
I take another step forward, this time releasing the lamp post from my grip, and watch the figure step out onto the snow covered path.
They call again, this time with a sense of desperation in their tone, and turn towards me as the light from the lamp post shines on me. I keep walking forwad as my heart races, and instantly feel my skin turn to ice as the figure ran towards me.
"There you are!" The figured called as they rushed into the light.
It was you. My mother.
When you walked into my room and my bed was still neatly made, you grew concerned about me. You checked every inch of the house, even the garden, but I was no where to be seen. So you ran out into the street, with nothing on but your pjs, in hope that I would be there.
You were prepared to search the cold streets for me, no matter how long it took, just to make sure no harm had come to me.......because you love me, and you always will no matter how much I irritate you. And I took you for grantige........
"I love you mum," I mumbled into her ear as I return her loving gesture. "I always will, no matter what."
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