I killed my first child. Part II

"Wow, how'd you get that scar on your arm?"

I always told the truth when people asked. I don't know why I did that, looking back now that was such a stupid thing to do. Why am I such an honest person?? Honesty gets you nowhere in life, honesty is the thing that makes you pay the price, makes you lose it all, makes you suffer, makes you fall.

"My ex-boyfriend accidentally did it, he was playing around with a box cutter and didn't realize that a tiny tip of the blade was sticking out and it cut me...”

I'm wiser and more experienced in life now. It's been almost 20 years since that arm incident. I'm sure everyone thought I was a complete liar, that I was involved in a relationship with a total psycho or that I actually did it to myself (more then likely that’s probably what they all thought), that I was one of those deranged and damaged, blamed others for my faults, etc. I can only imagine the thoughts that must have ran through their minds. I can actually relate to them, I would have judged me too, I would have decided to make sure to remember that I wasn't right...that I wasn't the type of person that should have children in my life.

Nobody could believe an explanation for a behavior like that without assuming that I was totally out of my God damned mind.

I understand.

I get it.

But...

I’m serious when I say things like that have happened more than just a few times. That there have been some unexplainable incidences that have caused me to say things that make it appear as if I have totally lost my mind. One of which these incidences being the time a manager at Sephora gave me a facial cream to put on my scar.

It actually worked.

She was an amazing Mother and when her son told her at the dinner table one night that he rather go spend time with Daddy and Daddy's new girlfriend instead of her because they were more fun, she smiled and continued to serve his dinner and told him that she was happy for them, that she was glad he had fun spending time with them (while she worked over-time and on weekends just to make ends meet). Then while he happily ate, she slipped away to hide herself inside the bathroom, locked the door, and silently cried. She made sure he couldn't hear her, couldn't see her heart breaking into a million tiny pieces all over her face. Instead without flinching, she actually SMILED and he BELIEVED it. Her hand didn’t even tremor while she continued to dish food on to his plate. The truth gets you nowhere in life. She was strong and she made it, she didn't lose her son, she was a professional at maintaining the lies, wearing the mask, donning the guise, performing the gestures that keep society from attacking you...she was calm. She wasn’t crucified. She was a Mother of God. Nobody worshipped or prayed to her either, cash me ousside - at least she kept the boy alive.