I Really Don't Need This.

What I need is you ! 

How much longer are you going to keep tearing me down? You're supposed to be the one person I can come to for support, for help, someone to actually just listen. But the thing is, you aren't and you don't. You aren't the person I go to for support and you don't listen. I don't understand why. 

I don't get how you can laugh in my face when I tell you how badly I want to talk to you. I don't get why you don't take me seriously about anything. Look, I know you've been here and I know you've done this and that. That's why. But why do you have to laugh at me? Why do you have to laugh at me whenever I tell you I have problems? How on earth can you find humor in the fact that your own daughter is hurting? Why do you laugh at my face when you see that I'm so hurt? How is that funny? 

Maybe it's because you have worse problems. Well, I know that! You know why I know? because you never let me forget it. You robbed me of my innocence a long time ago when you dragged me into your world to make your decisions and face your situations. i am much older than my years because of you. i was exposed to the evils of the world a long time ago by seeing it all through your eyes. Actually, your problems heap onto mine. So, are you happy? You add your miseries to mine! Your middle-aged economic miseries into the social miseries of a teenage girl. why on earth would you do that. 

even when it really is serious. i told you i was hungry yet you mocked me about  it, teased me, made ridicule, and then ignored my suggestions. 

you don't want to take me seriously! i come to you crying about something, yet you just laugh at me and leave. and don't tell me that we haven't discussed anything. just today, i asked you for the umpteenth time why you don't take me seriously. And what did you do? You turned and laughed at me. And you told me...you told me that my troubles were nothing, you told me that i was being foolish. and then you walked away laughing. 

Well, excuse me! i'm sorry if whatever i deem important is not important to you. you know what, maybe you are right. maybe i am just being stupid! maybe it really isn't important to talk to you about how you feel about the fact that i have a boyfriend. oh, there's a good one! i know for a fact you hate that! but we never discussed it. why? because you don't take me seriously! you don't take that situation seriously. you don't take that facet of my life seriously! instead of guiding me, all you do is drop snide little remarks about how it's all a sham. what kind of mother tells her daughter that her first love is a sham? what kind of mother says it plainly that he'll be there solely just to break your heart? Well, i think you should put that dust pan away and find something else to do with your time, because you won't be picking up any pieces from MY broken heart! just because you were heart broken so many times, doesn't mean i will be. i KNOW i won't be. 

it's not fair. you never had a mother to talk to because Lola was always abroad working. Me, I never have a mother to talk to because she never wanted to take me seriously. which is better? which is worse? i tell you now, i would rather have neither. but the first, at least the first has an excuse. what is your excuse? you are tired of problems?  i could probably understand that if you didn't always still come home and yell at me all the time for the littlest of reasons. why are you so meticulous when choosing out how to deal out your anger? don't you think that i've had enough? don't you realize, one of these days, i will reach my limit?

or don't you care? you say that my indifference shows you i don't care. you think i scorn you bitterly and hate you. how wrong. how do you expect me to try and listen to you when you never let me reach out? whenever i try and extend a hand, you bat it away with joyous airs. 

no, i put my soul on the line for you, and you leave it hanging while laughing on your merry way. how good for you! perhaps you can still maintain a few shreds of artificial happiness that way. yes, walk off away from your hurting daughter that needs you and into the hands of the world that will chew you up and spit you out. what a paradox, you need her just as much as she tells you she needs you to listen yet you scorn her foolish troubles and wish she would take on your own. 

but don't you realize how much she herself has taken on? don't you realize how much she herself has given up? all you see is yours. you see, you always blame her for being onesided. but what you do not realize is this : she sees both sides, but can not act on them. you see one side and only act on that. which is better? which is worse ? surely neither. but nothing can be done to correct the wrongs of the stubborn, for correction requires action on consent and the stubborn will never consent, it is simply not in their nature. not in theirs and not in yours. 

you chide me for where i turn to. you chide me for running to my friends. but tell me, where else am i to run? if my own mother will resort to slander and will not take me seriously but only laugh at my face when i am entrenched in sorrow, where else am i to turn to? at least, i have a myriad of ears to take in my voice and not cut me off. at least, i shall have an audience watch me put on my performance of sorrow and not one that shall stand and leave before the curtain even rises. at least i shall have the chance to charm hearts! at least, i shall have hearts and tears for me. at least, they will be there for me. where will you be? in the corner, laughing? in my face, laughing? don't laugh; maybe it would be better if you just did not make an action at all.

just let me be then. it hurts far too much when you scorn and laugh. just leave me there to cry, at least that shouldn't make it any worse .