She's Waiting, For A Son Who's Never Going To Come Home...
I sat down on the sofa in the morning, feeling tiredness take over me. I had been cleaning the whole night. Today was my baby boy’s birthday, he was turning 21. He was probably not a baby anymore, but in my eyes, he was still the baby who brought happiness in my life. I haven’t seen him in three years, because of his girlfriend. She told him that he needed to grow up and he listened to her. I couldn’t stop him. It was his life, after all.
I’ve seen him occasionally on magazines and on the news with racy pictures popping up now and then and I can’t help but feel disappointed. I raised him to respect women, not squeeze their bum in public, or remove their bikini top leaving them half-naked. I wish my sweet boy was back, but he’s gone, and someone else has come to replace him. I miss the son who would take me out on ‘dates’ and tell me I was his favorite girl. I miss it when he used to tell me I was the most beautiful girl in the world to him.
I probably sound like a fifteen year old girl who just got her heart broken. I did get my heart broken, just not in the way you’d imagine. I got my heart broken because the boy I had raised did not turn out to be the way I had expected. I had raised him to be a sweet, gentle young man, who respected women and put family first, not a player who treated all women like prostitutes and left his family. I remember when he would be with girls that I would approve of like Caitlin, and I also remember when he forced me to approve of Selena. Now, he doesn’t care whether I approve or not.
He hasn’t spoken to me in three years. He hasn’t been him in the past three years. He’s… changed.
His fans have also changed in the past three years. They used to be tween and teen girls fantasizing on how it would be like to date him. Now, they’re prostitutes, fantasizing what it would be like to have him in bed with them, and how much he would pay them at the end of the night.
If I could get someone, anyone, to change him, I would pay that person a billion dollars, even though I don’t have a billion dollars. But I would do anything, anything at all, to get my boy the way he used to be.
Sometimes, I feel like visiting him. Just to see him. And, sometimes I feel like giving him an extra-long lecture like the time when he went with his friends to bike at two in the morning.
I remember telling him that I had done enough of drugs and had enough of alcohol for the both of us. I remember him promising he wouldn’t do it. Now, all he does is drink alcohol.
There are days when all I do is cook spaghetti because he used to like it. I used to cook and bake all day… for a boy who was never coming home.
I miss it when he would come to me, with girl troubles and I would be there to help him. He would be nervous, his eyes full of fear, and he would look like a lost puppy. Now, he’s sure that every girl will fall for him, and if a girl dumps him that’s ‘her loss’.
I blink back tears at the thought of what my son has become, but I force a smile because there’s nothing I can do about it. Yet, who am I smiling for? I have no one. Absolutely no one. My parents died a year ago in a car crash. My son doesn’t talk to me. I can’t talk to my friends because the first thing they would ask about would be Justin. I couldn’t bear to say his name anymore.
I remember when his best friends would be Ryan and Chaz, not Lil Twist and Kim Kardashian. There were rumors that Kim had been pregnant with his child. I had felt disgusted and I remember asking god what I did to deserve that. I also remember when his other girlfriend who had been working in a club got pregnant; he made her get an abortion. Before he would speak out against it saying ‘it was killing a baby’.
I remember when his pet was a dog called Sam and he drove in a Range Rover. Now, he had a pet snake called Johnson and drove around in a black Ferrari.
Where was my baby boy? Was he gone?
My thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. I walked over to the door and flung it open. Standing there in all his pride was my son, my baby boy. My hand covered my mouth in shock and tears came to my eyes.
“Mom,” He said smiling sadly.
That was when I broke down. I had been dying to hear that word, that three lettered word for three whole years now. I opened my mouth to say something, but I was interrupted with a tender, loving hug.