I didn’t call you on Mother's Day. Have you ever felt so uncomfortable you can’t breathe. Chest pains that bring you to your knees. That’s how you make me feel. I judge myself for feeling this way. It isn’t right, I know. Maybe I was too much to manage. I’m must’ve done something, right? A mother is supposed to always be there though. I remember looking for you and you weren't there. I don't think you ever knew how to be. I don’t blame you. I want to, but I can’t. You weren’t given the proper tools to succeed as a mother. Logically, I know to accept it for what it is. Emotionally, it shows how hard it is for me. I can’t watch or listen to anything that has to do with a mother and child without going through emotional distress. I put other’s feelings before my own. I have this internal battle with myself because I know that by me hardly talking to you is hurting you. It hurts me, but I have to put me first. I forgive you and I love you, but I must do so from a distance. I still carry the pain you caused and I’m fearful that I will never let it go. I’m trying to find serenity.