When my mother passed I hid inside of myself. I wrote endless short stories, novels. I have several poetry books. My grandmother and aunt have done a good job raising me, but there is nothing like having the comfort of your own mother. A woman that knows every part of you. A woman that will always count you first. I was my mother first born. I have a younger sister but she was too little to remember our mother much. I have tried to keep our mothers image in her head as much as possible, but even since we were seperated after our mother's funeral I haven't been in contact with her all that much.

I am an adult now. In being a young adult I have come across more difficult times. These are times that I actually have to deal with, instead of runaway from. When most young adult enter into college they have parents that have worked the majority of their lives to build a foundation for them, so that when they went to college they would have an easy transition.

But...

Of course, I had to be that special case. They lost my paperwork. They needed this document from this parent and that parent. They asked me questions, like "did my parents graduate college or how much did my parents make in one year ect" and the truth is I just. DID. NOT. KNOW!

I was always very jealous of the other students. This jealousy started in middle school when the beginning of school would start. I would watch all the other students hold their mother's hand as they climbed on that bus. I would climb on the bus alone. I would watch their mother's faces light up as they got off the bus to greet the loving arms of a very proud mother.

I was usually the next to last student to get off the bus or the last. I would get off the bus and walk alone to my "home."

The times when we had to have parent teacher meetings, my aunt dreaded every moment of having to take out her time to go sit on one of these meetings. She had her own daughter to think of. I could see the division. I wasn't her own so she always treated me differently, naturally. At first, I would act out, but as I got older I started to hid inside myself more and more, until I tuned them out all together.

I found it better to pretend that what annoyed or what hurt me didn't exist. We never had family conversations about "feelings" or about what was really going on. That is one thing that I am going to do differerently when I have children. I am going to encourage my children to talk about how they feel.

There was a time when I use to call my grandmother "mom," because she was my guardian until she got sick. And you wouldn't believe how UGLY and immature my aunts acted when I started doing that! Whenever I would ask my grandmother (in middle school/beginning HS) for money to go see a movie or get a new pair of shoes, they would raise a fit. Yes, grown women acting like a two, grown butt two year olds because they were not getting enough attention from THEIR MOTHER. My eldest aunt always made it a point to say that to me. I only acted out, because I was trying to understand the emotions that went along with my mothers absence, but of course my aunts, never having known loss the way I did, just thought I was being UNGRATEFUL or SPOILED.

The second I could get a job, I did because I didn't want to be a burden to my grandmother anymore. And my freshman/SO years I was working two part time jobs. I went into one and after I was finished at one, I would go straight to the other one.

My aunts made me feel bad for not knowing how to deal with the absence of my mother. My mothers absence didn't officially hit me, until I was about 15 or so, thats when all the imbalance of emotions arrived. There were some days that were better than others. There were some times when I would stay in my room for about two weeks straight, without talking or calling anyone. I just didn't want to be bothered. I had to figure it all out. And they weren't going to help me, because whenever I was sad and I missed her a lot. They never knew what to say to me in the first place.

None of my family members really know what to say to me.

I am the only grandchild that has no parents.

Don't you think that is strange?

I was always labeled as the problem child or the spoiled one because my grandmother gave me the things I needed. In the other grandchildrens eyes they thought that it wasn't fair.

Whenever I see mothers and their daughters or even fathers and their daughters there is always a soft press into my heart. I always feel very alone. I have a hard time making friends. And even if I do make friends, they never stay in my life long enough to get to know me... or care about my life. Please, don't even ask me about trying to establish any romantic relationships lol

Yes, I had my share of heartache, but mine was much more deep. Whenever I would get a guy to be interested in me I always got a attached to quickly. I liked the attention. The constant want of me around made me feel like I belonged somewhere, but in most cases they only wanted me around to use me...

I have only had one real boyfriend ever and we were actually engaged but that didn't work out. He was the first man to ever really love me in that romantic way. It is a feeling that I often miss, but I know that even with that our union would not have lasted because I was not right with myself. I was still battling my own demons. I took a lot of my anger and hurt and confusion that I had over my mothers absence out on him. He was good to me, but he just didn't know how to handle me. Well, no one did back then. Not even myself. But he did the best he could do and for that, always as him being my first love, I will always be thankful.