I miss your smile.
I miss the moment you showed your teeth before you laughed.
I miss being innocent to the paranoia and addiction.
I miss feeling your hand on mine and not worrying when the pressure had gone away because after all, you were just at work.
I miss the minutes of not knowing my life would end up this way.
I do not miss begging you to stop smoking (cigarettes, marijuana) and you struggling to come up with a reason not to.
I do not miss trying to convice you that you deserved someone better than a man who abused you.
I do not miss chasing them in the middle of the night, afraid that they'd leave me if I didn't.
I do not miss feeling as if you loved him more than you loved me.
You aren't gone, so I guess I'm grieving not just the loss of a mother, but for the collaspment of my childhood too.
I miss you so much, Mama. And despite the things I don't miss, I know I would take everything the way it was before this, if it meant I wouldn't have to greive you.