Here we are. Christmas. “The most wonderful time of the year” and yet I can’t listen to a single song about about it. I can’t look at all the decorations without the sick feeling in my stomach.
Here I am. Almost 7 months pregnant. A child I thought I couldn’t have, I should be happy. But you’ve been gone for almost 5 months. Living your life. Hating and resenting me for everything. Moving on. And here I am with this little miracle and constant reminder of you.
I don’t cry as often as I use to. I’ve tried to move on. And yes I’ve met someone. But I’m always reverting back to you. He is not you. Even with all the hurtful things you’ve said, I can’t see anyone beyond you. Thank God he lives quite far away. I’d hate for him to see me on these days, even if he says he understands.
Everyone thinks it’s too soon to move on. But really how much time do you waste waiting for someone who clearly states they want nothing to do with you? Nothing to do with their son. Nothing to do with the support that is needed because yes this has been rough. And who hasn’t been there since the beginning. How much time? So much time that I screw up a good guy by constantly questioning my worth to him because someone else doesnt see it?
Yet, here I am. Tail between my legs, questioning everything and missing you. Thoughts keep screaming, reminders of all the good we had still lingering and me feeling so small, broken and emotional. I need these thoughts to go away. I’ve talked, wrote and prayed. None of which have helped thus far.
So, to say the least this day has been painful. The negative drama queen who I call dad didn’t help. Nothing is ever good enough and he is never happy. Unless he’s stoned. Letting him move in was the worst idea. I love my dad, dearly. Maybe I shouldn’t say he’s never happy and he has his good points. He is always there when I need him. I just can’t handle his negativity that happens way to often.
So I’ve resorted to laying in bed, in the dark, thinking about everything.