Nineteen years later, my mother reappearednow she wants money and a roof over her head.
I was ten when I realised that those who give you life arent always the ones who stay. It wasnt a slow departure, not a tearful goodbye. No, it was brutal.
One day, I still had a home, a family, parents. The next, they left me at an orphanage and walked away without looking back.
No explanation. No final embrace. Not even a single promise theyd return.
The first few days, I cried. The first few weeks, I hoped. The first few months, I waited.
I told myself it was a mistake, that theyd come back for me. I clung to the idea they loved me, that they must have had a good reason to leave me behind.
But they never came back.
As time passed, I understood no one was coming. No one wondered where I was, if I had enough to eat, if I shivered at night.
The orphanage wasnt a place for those with illusions. There, we didnt speak of love or familywe learned to survive. I saw children shatter under the weight of abandonment, the light fading from their eyes.
But I refused to drown.
I worked, I studied, I built my future with my own hands. I swore Id never depend on anyone again.
And I succeeded.
After years of sacrifice and effort, I finally had everything I needed. A small flat in Manchester, a steady job, a car. I was alone, but I needed no one.
I thought Id buried my past. But the past has a way of resurfacing when you least expect it.
A shadow from the past.
It started on an ordinary morning.
I went to fetch my coffee from the little café down the street, as I did every day. The smell of fresh coffee hung in the air, and the world felt peaceful.
Then, I saw her.
A woman stood across the road. She stared at me, her gaze fixed on mine with an intensity that unsettled me.
I looked away and kept walking.
But the next day, she was there again.
And the day after that.
I spotted her outside my building, motionless, hesitant, as if she wanted to come in but didnt have the courage.
Then, one evening, she finally dared to approach.
“Thomas is that really you?”
Her voice trembled, barely louder than a whisper.
I turned, and for a second, the world froze.
I recognised her instantly.
Despite the years, despite the deep lines on her face, despite the streaks of grey in her hairI knew who she was.
It was her.
My mother.
The woman who abandoned me now wanted to stay.
She spoke before I could react, her tone frantic, rushed, as if she feared Id leave before she said her piece.
She told me how life had broken her, how my father had turned to drink, how theyd lost everything.
Then came the request Id expected.
“Ive nowhere left to go Can I stay with you?”
She had nothing.
No money, no home, no family.
And she wanted me to let her into my life.
She said she could take care of me, cook for me, be the mother shed never been.
As if it could all be erased, fixed with a single word.
I listened. I watched the tears roll down her cheeks.
But inside me, there was nothing left.
No anger.
No pity.
Just an immense emptiness.
The decision that changed everything.
“You abandoned me.” My voice was calm but cold. “You walked away and never looked back. Why do you think you have the right to come back now?”
Her expression darkened, her shoulders sagged.
“Thomas I made a mistake I was scared I was lost But youre my son.”
I gave a bitter smile.
“I was your son, nineteen years ago. Today, Im just a stranger to you.”
She reached for me, searching for contact, for hope.
I stepped back.
“Please Ive got no one left.”
I hesitated. For a split second.
Maybe someone else would have let her in.
Maybe someone else would have believed her words.
But not me.
Not with her.
She made her choice nineteen years ago.
Now it was my turn.
“Dont ever look for me again.”
She didnt argue.
She just bowed her head.
Then she turned and walked away.
I watched her disappear down the street, waiting to feel something.
Anything.
But there was nothing.
No relief.
No regret.
Just absolute silence.
Maybe if shed stayed back then, Id have been someone else.
Maybe Id have known what it was to have a family.
But Ill never know.
The past cant be changed. But the future?
Thats mine.
And I choose to move forward. Alone.
