Confession of a Stiff

My parents are never the sweet couple. I remember writing their names with a heart on our wall when I was young so when they see it, I would know that they’re still in love with each other. I started watching their movements, waiting for the signs I hoped for, but all I see were rows. My mom would always create these loud noises from the kitchen every time they would argue about money. My dad would always shut his mouth while in his sober state but sometimes yells in his loud agitated voice. That always put my mom into crying and us children would always boil water for her to drink. But mostly, they communicate with each other like two comfortable people living in the same house.
One night, my mom told us that he hated my father – his husband, so much that she definitely regretted being married to him. I couldn’t blame her. My father is an alcoholic with lots of vices especially in his addiction to bets. And so, I decided that they will never love each other but they will stay forever, for us – for their children.

Most children dream of wanting to be their mom when they grow up.
But I never wish to be like my mom.
I’m scared to be like her.
I always envy parents who stay in love even when married. I want that too.
My mom have always different perspectives when it comes to love and most of it were negative. I want to argue with her, to change her opinion. But I couldn’t, because I feel sorry for her. She didn’t know what it feels to be in love because I know that she doesn’t love my father.
I may be wrong. I may have misunderstood their kind of love for each other. But, they’ve already made it too clear that they couldn’t stand with one another.

And now I’m battling with my self.
I’m becoming my own mother.
I’m that type of girl whose walls are always up. I’m not clingy. I hate public displays of affection. I’m awkward to the guy I like. I have high standards for my soon-to-be-husband. I wasn’t a sweet girlfriend.
In short, I’m cold and so freaking numb.

But I want to be loved. To know what it feels like. I want to pour all my compressed thoughts to the man I love. I want him to listen to the bands I insisted. I want to be wanted. I want to be needed. I want to be clingy too. I want someone to hug me because he senses that I would like a hug. I want to be cuddled. I want to be kissed on my forehead. And I want to be a sweet wife to my husband.

I want all those things but I feel like something is always stopping me from doing it.
Something about myself.
Something about my parents.
Something about the inexplicable love.

I was born to be a rigid insensitive girl and I’m sorry.

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