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I'm feeling a lot of things all at once. One bad thing about being like this is the thinking that comes automatically during the nights, pulling me away from what could possibly be a deep, dreamless sleep. I don't know how to react to these things, so oftentimes, I just keep my thoughts to myself...but not today. Today, I stepped into the shower and wept.

I'm just excited that my mom is coming home next week, but lurking in the back of my mind are the questions I've been trying so hard to shove aside. What if the things I fear prove themselves to be true?

The last time my mom came home, a lot of drama has happened. It came to the point when I've decided that I was better off living without acknowledging the fact that I had a mother at all. I still remember how that afternoon, I got on a random bus and traveled for three hours without a specific destination; I just wanted a place to be alone, a lace where my pain was my own, a place where I could cry. That day, when I told her that she could start living like she didn't have any children, she begged me to give her another chance. That everything she was doing was for my sister and I.

Now, after roughly two years, she's bound home again. I really can't wait to see her,  but a part of me keeps telling me not to hope for too much cause I might be disappointed. Those things in the past might rise from the grave and haunt us all again, but I want this, too. It took me twenty years to realize that when it came down to it, I don't really have any idea what it feels like to have a mother.

I've spent time with her when I was young, that much I know. But sometimes, when you're 20 and your father has been dead for years and your mother is not under the same roof as you are, you just wonder what could have been. Most people would say it only happens in the movies, but the truth is, it only takes one quick look at a mother and father holding their kids' hands for me to feel jealous and self pity, because I don't remember ever having that. My mom never met my first boyfriend, the first boy to make me cry, and when she met one of my boyfriends, she didn't like him. Most girls would have hated that, but I'm only thankful that at least I have shared that part of my life with her.

You see, most of the time, when it comes to my mom, I feel like a beggar. I feel like I'm so lucky if I get even just an ounce of attention, a dash of love, a minute of her time. I know that she loves me, but I always end up questioning if that is ever enough for her to like me.

So now that she's coming home for 11 days, I guess I'm just hoping that we'll all make an effort to make things work. I'm wishing for some time alone for her and my sister and I, but I don't mind having my uncle along because he's cool. I just want to have this. This little fragment of time with her, so that if this is the last time that we spend together, we spend it happy together. No arguments, no shouting matches, no disappointments. Just some family time to hold on to. To last me for the rest of my life.