Oedipus, forgive me I'm not your mother

OEDIPUS
Please Forgive Me For
Not Being Your Mother

By Neli Lalanne

For a man with an Oedipus complex, the worst flaw a woman can have is to not be his mother. My mistake was to not diagnose this emotionally cancerous condition of yours early enough. I accepted you whole; with a disdainful hand I waved away friends’ concern and advice. They did not understand, they could not possibly understand that despite all of our problems, at the end of the day I would stand alone and defy my father and God, risk breaking family ties and spending eternity in limbo all in the name of love, all for you.

By amputating your body of an entity so dear to you yesterday, you cut off it seems the root of your passion for me and tossed away any recurring memory of the countless times I stood beside you instead of leaving you despite things that would send anybody running away convinced that you were poison for the spirit. Not flinching when looking at me bent over, crying as if the apocalypse had come and gone, I guess is the behavior of a strong individual. Not coming after me when I took off walking in the rain in a mental state which would rival that of Hannibal Lecter, is I guess what a real man does. If so then maybe I need a wimp in my life. After crying for 48 hours, reminiscing for 24 and feeling numb for 12, my purpose is not to hate you, but rather to achieve the peaceful, uninhibited state of indifference.

Assuming you haven’t already, tomorrow when laying by a proper care-taking woman, who after cooking a lavish dinner, understanding that you just aren’t into kissing goes down on you instead in an attempt to exhibit her complete dependence and reaffirm your authority; know that I, unlike the ones who preceded me will not be mourning the demise of our relationship, and wondering what you are doing. I will be fine.

Four months later (after undergoing another ‘out with the old, in with the new’ crisis) when you find something wrong with the care taker and proceed on breaking her devoted heart; my body will be convulsing with pleasure as I whisper, then scream out somebody else’s name while achieving my third orgasm. As you can see, I will be fine.

In 6 years, when sitting in a gorgeous water front property alone trying to rationalize why your relationships never prospered and justify why you just had to end them all; You’ll stop, sheer pain will run up and down your spine and like a thunderbolt Karma will hit you and you’ll realize just how much of a bitch she can be, perhaps then you’ll remember me. At that time, with my husband by my side (a man able to handle my feelings with dexterity and care), I will be smiling at my first-born. I will be fine.

For now though I must apologize to a few. Dad for making you feel helpless and unable to stop my flow of tears, I am sorry. Mom for sitting by the side of the damp road feeling lost, cheeks wet by tears and rain, needing a random stranger’s words: “Baby girl is he worth it ?” to remind me of your wisdom, I apologize. You always told me that no man is worth my tears and that the one who is will never make me cry, you were right. My apologies to my sister for not being the strong role model she admires and allowing a man to make me continue digging after I’ve hit rock bottom. My apologies to my friends for having been a pale reflection of myself, thank you for being there.

For a man with an Oedipus complex, the worst flaw a woman can have is to not be his mother. My mistake was attempting to reverse a curse the Olympian Gods had inflicted on your soul.