It must have been around 3 in the morning when Molly got home. She was again late from her work and her fifteen year old son had fallen asleep. She opened the refrigerator and took out a can of beer, she closed her eyes and sighed, silently. She looked at the beer can and thought to herself, had she failed as a mother?
She took a sip and thought, had she been too selfish in filing for the divorce? She opened her eyes and found herself crying, she had always hated crying, pertaining to the stigma attached with it. ' Women have a shorter and a shallower tear duct than men ', she had read that somewhere, she reminded herself that she is still radical, it was the tear duct that was at fault. She was trying to comfort herself, was overthinking every bit, but what else could she have done? She had realised that she was falling apart, piece by piece. She knew that she could not deal with the guilt all by herself, but she was, all by herself. She had chosen this life and had she not been sorry for her son, she would have been content. According to her, this life with emotional outbreaks and guilt was much better than the life she had been living with her husband.
Johnes was everything Molly was not and this was why they got together at first but once they were done discovering each other they could not bear each other. Their ideology, their philosophy for life was way too different. Their son, Peter had no idea about the differences but as he grew up he too thought that it was better for both of them to separate, although he was only fifteen years old, Molly had always thought that he had an old soul. A soul which has seen everything, understood everything and was in a fifteen year old's body just so that he could stand by her.
Molly used to believe in the universe until her divorce, post divorce, she could not stop blaming herself, the only thing she did not want to give her son was, a life without a father but she could not do anything about it. She felt helpless and tired ; mentally tired. She could perform all the duties of a father but she could never replace the touch of a father.
She knew Peter was understanding enough that his parents can't live together and that was what was eating her, she knew Peter wouldn't crib, she knew Peter wouldn't say a word for he understood her mother more than her she understood herself, but she also knew that that could be his parasite too. His own suppressed desires might start feeding on him one day, and what will she do then?
She was so completely torn between her son's desires and her freedom, she could not deal with her own self anymore. She sat on the rocking chair and finished her can, she stared at the wall and cursed the universe until she fell asleep.
She took a sip and thought, had she been too selfish in filing for the divorce? She opened her eyes and found herself crying, she had always hated crying, pertaining to the stigma attached with it. ' Women have a shorter and a shallower tear duct than men ', she had read that somewhere, she reminded herself that she is still radical, it was the tear duct that was at fault. She was trying to comfort herself, was overthinking every bit, but what else could she have done? She had realised that she was falling apart, piece by piece. She knew that she could not deal with the guilt all by herself, but she was, all by herself. She had chosen this life and had she not been sorry for her son, she would have been content. According to her, this life with emotional outbreaks and guilt was much better than the life she had been living with her husband.
Johnes was everything Molly was not and this was why they got together at first but once they were done discovering each other they could not bear each other. Their ideology, their philosophy for life was way too different. Their son, Peter had no idea about the differences but as he grew up he too thought that it was better for both of them to separate, although he was only fifteen years old, Molly had always thought that he had an old soul. A soul which has seen everything, understood everything and was in a fifteen year old's body just so that he could stand by her.
Molly used to believe in the universe until her divorce, post divorce, she could not stop blaming herself, the only thing she did not want to give her son was, a life without a father but she could not do anything about it. She felt helpless and tired ; mentally tired. She could perform all the duties of a father but she could never replace the touch of a father.
She knew Peter was understanding enough that his parents can't live together and that was what was eating her, she knew Peter wouldn't crib, she knew Peter wouldn't say a word for he understood her mother more than her she understood herself, but she also knew that that could be his parasite too. His own suppressed desires might start feeding on him one day, and what will she do then?
She was so completely torn between her son's desires and her freedom, she could not deal with her own self anymore. She sat on the rocking chair and finished her can, she stared at the wall and cursed the universe until she fell asleep.