I feel pathetic; like a puppy waiting for it’s owner to come home. Like I can’t breathe without saying “good night” to you, which I can’t say because you’re not messaging me and I’ve sent so many already.. so many things I already wish I could take back; not because I didn’t mean them, but because you’ll take them wrong, and maybe you won’t love me. I’m terrified that maybe you’ll see I’m just destruction, a chaos who turns into a tornado at the mere thought of becoming organized. I want to tell myself that maybe your phones off; but you checked Facebook 32 minutes ago according to messenger, and 22 before that.. I’m pretending I’m not noticing, and pretending that I don’t care, but I do. & I know you might need a break from me, I’m selfish, I’m insecure, and without makeup I’m really not all that pretty. I need to write more, just not to you, because it’s not fair to make you my outlet when I’m not fully sane.. you told me you love when I tell you things, but also told me it drives you away. I hope one day when I read this I know it’s not all bad, it sounds that way, but at the same time I think you’re the best I’ve ever had… or, close anyways. But then I remember how you conveniently forgot our plans on my birthday, and how I made sure I was the first to let you know I was thinking of you on yours.
Because of you, my child has to grow up not only being a minority, but being a minority with baggage. Because of you, I don’t know if I’m the victim of rape, because I never liked you like that, but you were my friend; and you’d never do that, right? You’re in jail, because of you. Sure, she might have lied, but it was your door that she walked through.. Because of you, my child’s never known her father, and because of you I hope she never needs to. Because of you I often forget that she was created by more than just me, because it’s been just me from day one.. Because of You.
Because of you, she’s not an only child, and I don’t know the things they’ll discuss. Because of you, I don’t know how you’ll be portrayed to her, but it won’t be as a father. Because of you, there’s going to be a stigma that follows All of us. Because people ask questions that I don’t know the answers to.. Because of you, there’s an empty space on my child’s birth certificate, and a void I hope we’ll someday fill. Because of you, I wonder how Prince Charming became another devil in disguise, so quickly.
You don’t care that the first time I got molested I was only 15… you don’t care that even after 2 years I’m still contemplating whether or not my daughter was conceived out of rape. You wouldn’t care if I told you how broken the home inside that gorgeous house was. Because to you, I’m nothing more than a spoiled little rich girl.
That moment, when you don’t know how to think or feel.. where you can’t even write about it, even though that’s your go to method of figuring shit out. It’s that deep pit in the bottom of a sinking heart, it tells you’re depressed, but your head says your angry.. or maybe anxious.. or maybe confused. Maybe it’s just a side effect of feeling suffocated every time you try to breath. It’s that loneliness, creeping up beside you, and guilt wrapping you in it’s arms.. it’s wanting to be happy more than anything, but being too numb to feel it. What. The. Fuck.
Guys, I met this guy.. and my daughter absolutely adores him, and I, absolutely adore him. Truthfully I don’t know why he likes me as much as he does, but I’m so grateful that he does; because he’s exactly what I’m looking for. Now, we’re not in a relationship… yet; but I definitely see a future there and when I picture mine, it just makes so much more sense with him in it. He’s not my stereotypical type, in fact, he’s created a new one. I can’t stop thinking about him, and how badly I just wish he were here.. the thought of a serious relationship terrifies me, although with him it might be worth the ride.