It happens in the early mornings drinking coffee in the gentle sun. Or when something beautiful happens, and I feel the need to share. I’ll pick up my cellphone then quickly set it back down, it hits me like a fist hard against my chest, my mother won’t answer my calls anymore.
She drifted away so slowly from me as the Jehovah’s Witnesses pressured her. Too busy to plan anything then missed calls and unanswered texts began the process of disengaging herself from me. I’d stop over, but no one ever seemed to be home. I never believed she’d genuinely shun me for being gay.
I tell myself, I’m an adult I’m not a baby that still needs her mommy. I don’t need silly Spanish lullabies or a hug as a safe harbor from a shitty world. I will create my own family circle where love isn’t conditional or something to be shamed over. Piece by piece I will remake my broken heart.