True Bug

When I was six years old my mother used to play this trick on me, whenever she wanted me to do something I didn't want to do, she would start counting to ten; the reason behind this was that I was terrified of her tickling, so every time she would want something from me all she would do is start counting and come over to where I'm sitting, reaching out, and I will be completely under her power. It's pretty intense given the fact I was only six and my mother knew how to manipulate me. Now however I look back at it and I can finally understand why she did it; why she would torture such a helpless child, you see, my mother always had her own unique way of doing things, she never really wanted to get anything out of me except perhaps a little laughter she knew she was the reason behind. 

They say daughters grow up to show a bit of similarities with their mothers; you would go about your life kicking and screaming rejecting that statement, until finally realising your mother did the exact same thing when she heard that exact same statement. I don't think that's necessarily a given but when you're in a place where you don't feel as assured anymore you ought to look to the one person who properly knows nothing to little about who you are right now but more than nothing about who you were at a certain point of time. 

I was always a private person and perhaps I took after my father than my mother in that aspect; I kept a diary just like my dad and tried to document all the thoughts I used to have until one day I stopped and started writing stories about a different me in a different time; I think that was the starting point of my love affair with escapism! I was (and still) is a seeker of something else, never pleased or satisfied I took writing as a way to fill an overgrowing gap. Once I started I knew there was no going back; so I took refuge in writing about all the things I wish I had, knowing deep down I'll never actually get to have.

I run away because it's always been easier this way, I push everyone away and I regret it as soon as I've done it. However I always find a way to justify my mean because people leave and that's just the way it'll be, its better to be quick at leaving than have someone leaving me. A "safe bubble" is how my friend sees me, a bubble I had gotten so used to that is no longer saving me. I don't write about myself and I don't want you to; I'm not a character for your poem. I'm not an idea of a woman. I'm not an option nor a choice. And if the truth should finally come out; I won't be anywhere near to find out.

When I was six years old my mother used to play this trick on me. Now that I've gotten older I've realised, everyone plays a trick of some sort, but unlike my mother; no one really has good intentions in store.