When I was a teenager, more precisely I was 16 years old, I ran away form home.
I hated the way my mom was protective over me. I hated that she wanted to check my phone once a week to see what I have there.
I hated that she didn't allowed me to go outside with my friends.
I wanted to be free, so I've ran away.
We cut ties between each other and I also cut ties with my father and we haven't been in touch since then.
And now?
Now I'm 39. I have two daughters and I've finally understood why my mother was so protective over me.
So here am I now, standing in frond of her with tears in my eyes.
I clenched my coat as my heart aches at the sign of her.
My knees hit the hard ground and with a weak voice I plead all over and over again:

"Mom, please take me back as you daughter...please forgive me, I've finally understood..."

But no answer was heard.
I felt pathetic, dumb and naive.
Ofcourse she can't forgive me, she can't even hear me.
A sob left my mouth as I touched the hard surface of grave where my mother is buried...
...and I've finally realized that it was too late for me to plead for forgiveness ...
© EvaB