2.17.24

How is it that someone who didn’t yet exist is the most devastating force in one’s life?

He forced you into me, then forced you out. If things hadn’t ended so violently, where would we be? I, indeed, would have left him, aware that I couldn’t battle his demons while protecting you. We’d be renting a room or a studio somewhere. I’d be worn out from work, but it wouldn’t matter much to me because it would all be for you. I’d be pulling myself together for our sake.

Did you know you lingered with me for over a year after you ceased to exist? While I lay in bed for months, you, my sweet, played hide and seek inside me. You see, you were so small, I couldn’t feel you any longer.

Last summer, I thought I found the one, but perhaps I’m too broken for “the one.” He had me looking for jobs in his city and dreaming of a life I never imagined. I wanted to be his wife, his lover; more than anything, I still do. He doesn’t love me anymore, but that’s on me. The day you left my body, it all went dark again. The shame overtook me like a ravenous bear, clawing the hole in my chest deeper and deeper until it consumed me. Would he have stayed if I had let him follow me into the void? No. They never do. It is better not to be tempted by the devil named Hope.