Earlier that afternoon in the heat of anger, the most hurtful words that have ever been said to me in my entire life came out of the mouth of my child.
My child. The person who I love more than anything.
Love and human decency are lost in translation when this kind of anger takes over. I don't think this was an autistic meltdown. It was more like rage. It was measured at first and then it blew up.
Everything that I stand for. Everything that I've taught him by my own words and actions over the past nine-teen-years, flew out the window. Poof. Gone.
I'm left in disbelief.
Who is this person?
After the initial shock, my first thought is of him, his life, his future.
When we are both calm I ask him, "What kind of life do you think you will you have if you shoot off your mouth with such venom to a person that you love and care about, especially a female? It doesn't matter if it is in anger. The world is not forgiving. People will say goodbye and not look back."
I'm your mother. Sometimes I want to walk away and not look back. At least not until you have grown into the person that I know you can be.
In my heart, he is still my most thoughtful, loving child. He has always been the sensitive one with the biggest heart.
God didn't give me a girl, but maybe he will be the one who will take care of me in my old age.
I'm not so sure.
I have worked my entire life taking care of him, guiding, and protecting him.
Part of me knows it's not about me.
It's his own pain that makes him say hurtful things.
Hurt people, hurt people and all of that.
I love him, but I don't want to be his "safe person" anymore.
In fact, our relationship feels the opposite of safe.
Our relationship has become unhealthy for both of us.
"I love you too much to let you believe that this is acceptable behavior," I say to him.
Apologies and saying you didn't mean it begins to read like an empty book.
I am collateral damage after his words explode like shrapnel.
He feels all better because he let the anger out.
I'm left sitting with holes in my heart.
My heart still beats. I still love, but the holes remain.
They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.
I think we need to test this theory.
Change is imminent.