It has been two years

One of the things I seriously miss from my times back in that apartment, is the cooking.
I loved to cook them different things. I can't describe the level of satisfaction it made me feel to see them eat with such enjoyment.

Once we moved back to my mom's place. I stopped. Every time I would try to cook something I would end up in tears. I used to cook for someone who was no more, cooking had no meaning anymore.
As time passed by the feeling changed, knowing my kid and my sister enjoy my food so much, helped me to recover myself from that hole I was in.., but then again..

I'm such a dumbass for letting this get to me.. Anyway..

My mom would not eat anything I cook. So I decided I would never cook again. But it hurts, I shouldn't care, but still after all this time. She has the power to humiliate me. I don't hate her but, damn!!!!!!  Sometimes I feel so close to that.

Hope it's just the hormones talking -. -