Happiness Delayed

Intro: I have written one other story on this site, and it wasn't mine. It was someone else's story they gave me as a way to practice for this story - my story. Since English is not my first language, I thought it was helpful practice. Surprise everyone, I'm actually a female. I know there are not many of us on here, but I think there are a few of us. Sorry I hide that from you, but I think it was necessary to not make too many overlapping elements between my two stories. Once again, I look forward to the comments. They are hilarious.

I never knew my father. He left my mother before I was born. Honestly, it happens a lot in the Philippines. It's just part of life there. I never felt sorry for myself, just telling you about who I am. My name is Ghelia, and I am mute - I don't talk. Never have. I can see and hear just fine. We never could afford to go to a doctor to find out why I can't talk. It was just how God made me. So, keep in mind everything has been translated from sign, to Tagalog to English in my head. I know it's not going to be perfect, but I think I do fairly well considering the circumstances.

As a result of that, I never went to school. We didn't have the money anyway. I'm not looking for sympathy but trying to make foreigners understand it is a hard life there, and that's important if you want to understand me. Even with my challenges, my mother refused to give up on me. We lived on a farm and she worked from before sunrise until sunset every day, but somehow, she still found the energy to teach me.

One of the Catholic charities gave us a book on sign language, and we learned sign language together. She taught me how to read and write. She taught me math and science. She never would call me disabled. She only said God gave his toughest assignments to his strongest soldiers.

My mother was my rock. She never let me give up when I was teased or picked on. Her unyielding belief in me gave me the strength I needed to survive. When I was 13, I started working on the farm - planting and harvesting rice, tending to the pigs, anything they asked me to do. I was pretty much covered in pig shit every day from then on, but it was worth it to help us save a little money and have a better life. When I was 15, we even bought a television. I was happy. As long as I had my mother, I had everything I needed.

I grew into a young woman, and my mother started calling me LakLak. In Tagalog, bulaklak means flower. She said I was her lone flower that bloomed in the shadows when nobody was watching. She told me I had grown into a beautiful young woman, but I didn't feel beautiful. I felt like a dirty farm girl carnival freak.

When I was 17 our fortunes changed - we hit the lottery. An American chatted with my mother on-line and fell in love with her. He wanted to marry her. Yes, my mother is that GORGEOUS. I won't lie about it, so I wasn't surprised he wanted to marry her. I was happy for my mother but scared at the same time. I was worried what would happen to me. When the man applied for a visa for my mother, she told him she wouldn't go without me. Even when he pressured her, she wouldn't leave me behind. She made him choose. Either both of us, or neither of us.

To be honest, I really didn't like Daniel a lot, and he HATED me. I was baggage - an extra mouth to feed and a drain on my mother's time. He never bothered to learn even the most basic signs in order to talk to me. He didn't want to hear from me anyway. My mother went to work at a hospital, and when she wasn't there, he would call me "Are Tard" or "Ricky Retardo". I had to have someone explain that one to me, and I still don't fully understand it, but I knew it was an insult. I quickly learned not to come out of my room when he was there.

By the time I turned 19, we were settled in the US, and my mother signed me up for on-line high school equivalency classes. I had a lot of ground to catch up on, but we studied together every day, and she never lost patience in me. It took me 3 years to learn everything needed to pass the test, but I got a GED. My mother was very proud of me, and it did make me feel better about myself. I text Daniel and told him that it was proof I wasn't as stupid as he thinks I am. The exact quote I sent him was, "Not bad for a retard, huh?"

However even a GED wasn't good enough my mother. She pushed me to go to college. She told me she wouldn't always be there to take care of me, so I had to be able to take care of myself. She told me the key to getting a good job in the US was getting a college degree. Any degree, it didn't matter. Just get a degree no matter what it took.

We studied day and night, and it took me three tries, but I got a score on the SAT that was good enough to get accepted to the college we lived nearby. Going to college was hard and scary, but my mother reassured me she would be there to help me every step of the way. Thankfully, I was allowed to record all my classes so my mother could help me at night.

For six years, my mother worked her ass off to pay for my school. She worked weekends. She worked overtime. She took extra shifts. Yes, it took me an extra couple of years because I had to retake some classes I struggled in, but she never let me give up. Every time I struggled, she pushed me even harder, and she was right there with me the entire time. I teased her that she deserved a college degree more than I did. She had done the same work I had done, if not more. There were nights we were up until 1 or 2 am studying, but she never stopped until I understood the material.

It was during my last year in college that I was invited to a party. My classmate didn't realize I was much older than everyone else. I guess I have good genes and don't look my age. I look a lot like my mother, and she still got asked for her identification at 40. I didn't want to offend the girl that asked me to come to her party, so I went. Believe it or not, I'm a normal person. I like to have fun too. Yes, socializing was difficult for me, but I did enjoy being around people. I had a few friends.

I had been at the party for about an hour, and I was directed to an upstairs bathroom when I asked where one was. The door was open about a foot, so I assumed nobody was in there. I walked right in, and there was a girl, sitting on the counter. Her skirt was pushed up around her waist and a guy was in between her legs, fucking her. Quite a shock to say the least. It's college, so I knew people had sex, just surprised to walk in on it.

I was frozen at first. Her head was leaning back, and she was seductively biting her bottom lip as he thrust in her again and again. Her eyes were open but rolled back in her head. Suddenly, her head snapped back down, sensing my presence, and we locked eyes just for a brief second, before I got my senses back and signed "sorry", backing out of the bathroom.

I went back downstairs, used the other restroom, got a drink, and found a couch to sit on. I sat there for a while, trying to figure out if I had been there long enough to leave without offending my friend who invited me. I guess it was 20 minutes after that when the girl from the bathroom plopped down on the couch next to me. She introduced herself as Shay, and shook my hand, apologizing for leaving the door open. Talk about awkward.

My normal routine with someone who didn't sign was to text. So, once I got her to realize I don't talk, she gave me her number and I text her any long answers to all the questions she was asking me. I'm actually pretty fast at texting. I can keep up just about as fast as most people talk. Did you know the world's fastest texter is Filipino? I'm not quite that fast, but I'm pretty quick.

Shay was very outgoing and pretty. The more I chatted with her, the more impressed I was, despite the fact that just 30 minutes or so ago, she had been having sex with some guy. She didn't seem to find it awkward at all, and it took a while to get it pushed from the front of my mind but eventually, I stopped thinking about it too. We sat there, chatting for at least an hour before I told her I needed to go. When we stood up, I realized how beautiful she was. Tall and slim with the kind of curves that can stop traffic. Her skin was flawless. She is absolutely stunning.

I hadn't realized how tall she is. I'm 5 feet 1 inches. Yes, I'm small and dark - a typical Filipina. She was at least 6 inches taller than me (actually 5 feet 9 inches tall, I found out later), plus she was wearing heels, so she towered over me. She had to bend over just to hug me.

"Can I call you sometime?" she asked me, then laughed when she realized her mistake, and corrected it to "Can I text you?".

I just shook my head yes, praying in my mind that she would follow through. All too often, once someone gets all of their questions answered by the "freak" they lose interest and move on. Everyone always acts surprised that someone with a disability can be attractive, not that I'm gorgeous or anything - just ordinary. Yes, I'm lesbian, and even though I'd never had sex or even my first kiss back then, I always knew I was gay. My mother knew too. We have no secrets. She just wanted me to be happy.

I was overjoyed when Shay text me the next day. I like it so much when someone doesn't play games. To me, games are for kids. I am a grown adult, about to graduate from college and get serious about my life. I don't have time for games.

Two dates later, I had my first kiss ever. I remember it so well. We had just finished dancing a slow song, and Shay was holding me close. She leaned down and kissed me. Yes, I was late coming to the party at 28 years of age, but I was over the moon when it happened. You couldn't wipe the smile off my face for days. I couldn't wait to tell my mother. I was so happy.

Three months after that, I lost my virginity to her. I was in love. Shay and I dated for 11 months, waiting until I graduated and got a job before we moved in together. 11 months is an eternity in the lesbian world, but it was the right thing to do. I needed to be independent and able to take care of myself before I could be an equal partner in a relationship. Plus moving out of my mother's house was tough, but I knew it was something I needed to do.

My graduation day my mother told me that next to the day I was born, it was the happiest day of her life. She was so proud of me, but I always knew she was. She told me every day. I just wanted to keep making her proud of me. Without her, I would have never amounted to much. I owed her everything.

In case you are interested, Shay had been dating a guy when I met her, but I stole her away from him. They weren't serious, and she broke up with him when she got serious about me. Still, it has to be one of the most awkward starts to a relationship in the history of dating. Although she said she was bisexual, I was the first girl she ever "dated" seriously. It never ceased being awkward when someone asked how we met.

Nobody wants to hear the boring stuff, but the next year, we got married. Back then, we couldn't get "officially" married - so it was just a civil ceremony, but it still meant the same to me. I took my vows to heart. She was the love of my life and my forever partner. It was the happiest day of my life, at the time. I gave her everything I had to give. I lived for Shay. She was my family. My mother loved her. She was my entire world. Every day I worked, every obstacle I overcame was all for her.

It was two and a half years after that, on a rainy September morning, the wheels came off. It's still the worst day of my life. I had just arrived at my work when I got a call from the hospital. I don't normally answer calls, because I have no way to tell them I can't talk except for my voicemail message, but I just knew something was wrong. The voice on the phone told me to come to the hospital. I fell on to the floor crying. I instantly knew my mother was gone. I felt it in my heart. I literally felt my heart breaking.

My mother worked at the hospital from 5 am to 5 pm, four days per week. A driver struck her as she was walking from the parking lot into her work. They just left her there in the street to die alone, like a piece of trash. I never even got to say goodbye to her.

I can't express enough how much this destroyed me. Her relentless belief in me had kept me going every time I wanted to quit. She's the only reason I am the woman I am today. I was totally crushed. A coworker had to drive me home. I was to upset to drive. I was going home to get Shay and have her drive me to the hospital.

The second I walked in the door at home, I knew EXACTLY what was going on. Not only could I hear the noise, but I could smell it. Even though I already knew what she was doing, I had to go see it for myself. I walked to the bedroom and stood in the doorway. There was a guy, fucking Shay from behind. They were facing the headboard of the bed, and they didn't see me. So many emotions surged through me at that second. It was like that second in time lasted an eternity in my mind. It was sheer torture.

I picked up the statue of Mother Mary that I kept on my dresser and I wanted to smash it. I wanted to express my hurt and my anger, but I couldn't do it. It's just not who I am. It was not what my mother would have wanted. I could hear her scold me in my head. Very quickly the rage evaporated, and I set her back down and walked back to the door. I sat there balling for a long time. It had all become too much for me to handle. I was mentally done. I could not take everything that was happening to me and I shut down. You can call it a break-down if that makes you feel better, but honestly it was far more than that. My entire life just stopped right there.

I called for a ride to the hospital, laid my phone and my wedding ring on the table and went to the hospital. It took every ounce of strength I had left to make it inside, but I got there. Because my mother worked at the hospital, they held her upstairs and let me see her one last time before taking her down to the morgue. I only stayed a few minutes with her, as I already felt like she wasn't there. It was just her body. I didn't feel her presence there anymore. I didn't feel her at all anymore. I don't have any way to describe it other than it ripped my very soul apart.

I was alone. Not a person in the world cared about me. No person cared if I lived or died. I was lost and didn't know where to go. I couldn't go home. I couldn't go to Daniel's house. I had nowhere to stay. I walked out of the hospital and to an apartment complex down the street. I signed a lease and took the open unit they had immediately.

I held everything together for the three hours it took to sort out the paperwork and I was able to take possession. Then I went inside and shut the door. I shut out the world. I curled up in my own little world and built a wall around myself and around the remaining pieces of my heart.

I never went back to my old apartment. There was nothing there for me anyway. Everything reminded me of either my mother or Shay. Thankfully, I found I could buy anything I wanted on-line. I got a few things, and some groceries and had them all delivered. I didn't feel like going out anymore. Not just that day, but at all. Most days, I just laid on my mat (Filipino style bed) and cried. I didn't want to see or communicate with anyone. I just wanted to cry.

I honestly don't know how it happened, but the days just passed. I didn't plan it; it had just happened. Somehow, 9 months had passed, and I never left my apartment. I mean not even one single foot outside of my door. I had groceries delivered once a week, and I just existed until it all came to a head one day. I remember the day very well. I didn't want to live anymore. I didn't want to hurt anymore. Every day it seemed to get just a little bit worse, and I had reached my breaking point.

I stood in the kitchen with the knife at my wrist. I pressed it into my skin, and I watched as a stream of blood dripped down my arm and fell into a pool on the floor. I tried with all of my might to pull the knife through my wrist, but I couldn't. I don't mean I didn't have the willpower, I had plenty of that. I mean I physically could not pull the knife. Something was blocking my hand from moving. For the first time since her death, I felt my mother's presence. I felt her hand on the knife, stopping me. She talked to me.

She told me that I wasn't going to die that day. She told me I had too many things I still needed to do in my life. Her hand was stopping me from pulling the knife through my wrist. I dropped it and begged her to take me with her. I didn't want to be here anymore. I just wanted to be back in her arms, feeling safe again. She refused, saying again that there were things I still had to do in this life. I laid in a heap in the kitchen crying. I wanted to die. I missed my mother more than I can ever express.

I don't know how much later it was, but I heard the footsteps coming up the stairs. It was my weekly grocery delivery. I heard the delivery person stop outside my door. Then she knocked on it. They weren't supposed to knock on my door. Just leave the groceries and go. The instructions on my account were clear. I just ignored it and kept crying.

"Are you ok? I can hear you crying." the female voice called through my door.

Again, I just ignored it. Talking to someone was the last thing I wanted to do. I just wanted to be alone. To my shock, I heard her turn my doorknob and open my door. Yes, I didn't even bother to lock my door. If someone wanted to come into my apartment and kill me, they would be welcome to it. I was not afraid of death. Nobody could physically hurt me ever again. I was numb to it all now.

A tall Chinese girl with visible tattoos, piercings and half her head shaved set the groceries down and came over to where I was laying on the floor. Despite her modifications, she was beautiful. Her hair was flipped to one side and went all the way down her back. She was slim and smelled like flowers. She was really pretty, you just had to look past all the flair.

"Oh LakLak, who damaged you so badly?" she asked as she sat down beside me.

She just picked me up off the floor and held me. She never told me everything was ok. She never asked me what had happened to me. She didn't tell me to stop crying. She just held me and let me cry. She held me for over an hour before I finally stopped.

"I'll be right back." she told me as she leaned me up against the cabinet.

She walked into my living room. I heard her on her phone.

"Chuck? This is Luna. Something came up. You are going to have to cover the rest of my shift. Just do it! Yes, I'll be in tomorrow. Ok. Thanks. I owe you one." she spoke into her phone.

She walked back into the kitchen and pulled me to my feet.

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up." she spoke as she guided me to the shower.

I walked like a zombie, just looking at the floor. She guided me to the shower. She pulled my shirt over my head and turned the water on. It poured out onto my head. I stood there shivering. She felt the water and adjusted the temperature, then she handed me my sponge and closed the stall door, telling me to wash. She left and it took everything I had, but I managed to wash myself. Then I just stood in the water, looking blankly down at the drain. The water was hypnotizing.

Luna came back, several minutes later, and turned the water off and dried me off. She put a bandage on my wrist and pulled a tee shirt over my head before guiding me to my couch. I don't know why, but I started crying again. She just sat there, holding me as I cried. When I eventually stopped, she asked me when the last time I had eaten. I honestly didn't remember.

She just went to the kitchen and cooked. She came back to the living room with a bowl of stir-fry and handed it to me and placed a bottle of water on the table. I managed a few bites before I had to cry again. Just like before, she just held me and let me cry. I don't know how long she was there, but it was dark when she got up, saying she had to go.