Jun 8, 2026 · 21 min · 13 segments
What would you do to be able to talk to the person you miss most in your life? Someone who has died. What would you be willing to believe, if there were a chance they could still be with you?
I am writing this with her on my lap, with the doll.
I feel that in some way I can write because she has given me the opportunity to do so.
What I am about to share, my dear community, my dear Uriel, is very important to me.
I share it with you because I know this is a community that does not mock.
I share it with you because there was also another creator who wanted, I swear it, to buy my doll, to parade her around like a carnival attraction.
That has taught me that in this world there are also people who cannot be trusted, people who would be willing to do anything for money and views, without caring who it affects, without caring what is true.
My story begins with a death, my mother's.
She was my companion.
She was that my whole life.
The only person who never judged me.
The only person who truly understood me.
I always had trouble making friends, from preschool onward.
Throughout my school years, there were only a handful of people I could call friends at any given moment.
I can count them on the fingers of one hand.
But none of them stayed.
We were nothing more than classmates.
When the year ended, when a new one began, and new opportunities for friendship arose, they all moved on.
They all outgrew my friendship.
My mom was my only true friend, and the only person in the world who cared about me.
And when I say the only one, I also mean it because my younger sister never warmed up to me either.
She married young and left, rarely came back to the house where I stayed with my mother.
Here we were, just the two of us, until my mom grew old.
Until I grew old too.
Well, that's how you feel when you have no one.
The truth is, I was only thirty-five when my mom died in October 2023.
I am writing this with her on my lap, with the doll.
I feel that in some way I can write because she has given me the opportunity to do so.
What I am about to share, my dear community, my dear Uriel, is very important to me.
I share it with you because I know this is a community that does not mock.
I share it with you because there was also another creator who wanted, I swear it, to buy my doll, to parade her around like a carnival attraction.
That has taught me that in this world there are also people who cannot be trusted, people who would be willing to do anything for money and views, without caring who it affects, without caring what is true.
My story begins with a death, my mother's.
She was my companion.
She was that my whole life.
The only person who never judged me.
The only person who truly understood me.
I always had trouble making friends, from preschool onward.
Throughout my school years, there were only a handful of people I could call friends at any given moment.
I can count them on the fingers of one hand.
But none of them stayed.
We were nothing more than classmates.
When the year ended, when a new one began, and new opportunities for friendship arose, they all moved on.
They all outgrew my friendship.
My mom was my only true friend, and the only person in the world who cared about me.
And when I say the only one, I also mean it because my younger sister never warmed up to me either.
She married young and left, rarely came back to the house where I stayed with my mother.
Here we were, just the two of us, until my mom grew old.
Until I grew old too.
Well, that's how you feel when you have no one.
The truth is, I was only thirty-five when my mom died in October 2023.
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