My name is Matteo. When I was a child, I thought our family was simple but solid. We lived modestly, but warmly. My father worked in his workshop, and my mother stayed home to take care of me. I was their only child, and I believed it would always be that way.
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But one day, everything changed. My father lost his job, and even though I didn’t understand everything at the time, I felt the joy leaving our home. He became silent, and arguments began between my parents. Often, at night, I heard my mother screaming, doors slamming, and then silence—more frightening than any words.
Later, my father discovered that my mother was in another relationship. Our home was no longer a haven of peace. My father left. Every minute, I thought of him. As for my mother, she kept saying, “He abandoned us. Forget him.” But I couldn’t.
One day, she woke up in a good mood—for the first time in a long time. “Get ready, we’re going to the beach,” she said. I was happy, I believed her. We took the bus, and at a stop she said, “Wait for me here, I’ll get an ice cream.” I stayed on that bench… and I never saw her again.
Hours passed. The cold set in. I called her, crying, but she didn’t come back. Then someone found me and told my father. He came in tears and said, “Your mother left you. She won’t come back.” I didn’t want to believe it. But it was the truth.
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My father and I began a new life. A woman named Giulia entered our lives. She was gentle and patient. At first, I barely accepted her, but little by little, I started calling her “Mom”—because she was truly there for me. When my little sister was born, I understood what it meant to have a real family.
Later, my father told me that on that day, my biological mother had only called to give her address before disappearing. The court took away her parental rights. We never heard from her again.
The years passed. I grew up, studied, found a job, bought an apartment. Throughout this time, my father and Giulia always supported me.
One evening, when I came home, I saw a woman sitting on a bench. She raised her head: “Matteo… I’m your mother.” I almost didn’t recognize her. She had aged, and her voice was foreign to me.
I called my father. He came with Giulia. He said to me, “Son, you’re the one who has to decide what happens next.”
I looked at her without feeling anything. Just emptiness. “You’re not my mother,” I told her. “You’re gone. You’ve abandoned me. I have a mom and a dad—they’re them.” She cried, but I was calm. I asked her to leave.
Then the three of us hugged each other. I whispered, “Thank you for being here. I love you.” It was the truth.
Never let your children down. They didn’t ask to be born, but they need love. I, Matteo, know this from experience, and I carry this truth in my heart every day.