#tryingtoheal

2017 was a tough one.  So much loss, and not nearly enough time spent recovering.  It is now 2018, and it saddens me that I won't get to meet your precious face in March.  Some days I feel guilty because the pain I felt from losing the love of my life (your dad), sent my stress, depression, and anxiety into overdrive.  I feel that my energy made it impossible for me to carry you to term. I feel like if I was in a better headspace, you’d still be making your grand entrance this year.  Even though we weren’t together at the time, your dad and I agreed to love and raise you in the healthiest environment you could ever imagine.  I was genuinely excited.  I remember when the doctor told me, I couldn’t stop smiling.  Oh what I’d give to feel you growing inside of me right now.  I needed to write this.  I needed to finally grieve.  I have been masking emotions long before your conception, and continue to do so after the loss.  How cruel life can be. It gives and takes CONSISTENTLY...and I’ve been internally screaming, trying to find balance again.  I’ve never been good with loss.  It’s my kryptonite.  Losing anything/anyone I love breaks me down to absolutely nothing.  I feel empty.  I have the biggest hole in my heart.  I will always take pride in being your mother.  I will always hold a spot for you in this family & in my heart.  

It’s so hard because I didn't just lose a pregnancy....my child died.  It’s the kind of heartache you can feel in your bones.  I would be 7 months pregnant today & my emotions are running wild. You were carried for only a moment, but you will be loved for a lifetime.  Instead of seeing your family, I know the first thing your little eyes will see when you open them is the face of Jesus and I find a little comfort in that.  I’ll keep you in my prayers always my beautiful baby.  

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted, he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” -Psalm 34:18 

Leaving. I haven’t ever been good at it. When I was young and drinking alot I would leave bars without saying goodbye. I would walk home down the snowy, Colorado streets completely drunk on my own. No one knew where I was. I liked that feeling. I liked knowing that I was on my own and that I could go as slow or as fast as I wanted. I could turn down alleyways and walk by the river. I needed to watch out for moose, but never other people. When I leave I don’t usually say goodbye.

Monday morning that is what I did. I had threatened it so many times. I had promised him if I even suspected he was drinking I would go. My last threat three weeks ago weighed heavy on my heart. I knew I meant it this time and it made me sad because I knew he thought it was going to be like all of the others. That I would take it back. So as he was screaming Monday and I grabbed my bag I don’t think I will ever forget his face. The brief surprise as I reached for the door. It quickly turned to anger. He started saying that’s it, that’s how you want to say goodbye. He laughed. I paused but only for a moment. I left.

It’s been almost half a year since I’ve seen you in person. I thought moving to the other side of Lake Michigan would make me forget you. That distance would be good. Helpful.

It wasn’t.

It seems like as soon as I moved out, she moved in. Even though you had been seeing her for about a month at that point, I didn’t know that. You were always so private. How was I supposed to know?

How did I ever feel like I knew you.

But then you were tagged in a photo on facebook. One of your master’s cohort friends who likes to document everything. You invited HER to your annual get-together with your master’s friends.

I think I knew then SHE was staying around.

I don’t know anything about this girl. I’m sure she has a fine personality. I only know her online persona. She seems vapid. She seems fake. Her teeth are too white and her hair color isn’t natural. She posts so many selfies. And who the fuck wears pinky rings in 2019?

But it’s been 5 months.

You’re officially in a relationship with her. You smile wide in every photo. You dress up. You wine and dine her even though with me you were always pretty stingy. Heard through the grapevine that you have been since September.

You still send me snapchats. Never facebook notifications. Never texts. Nothing but SnapChat texts which flow away after 24 hours. SnapChat texts that you don’t respond to for days at a time. You never remember what we were talking about. You sometimes leave me on read.

You’re playing with my heart and I think you know it. But you won’t stop it.

 I know you’re what we would call a “fuck boi.”

Too bad we never even got to fuck.

Now everyday I’m kicking myself for agreeing for us to be “friends.” I’m kicking myself that I ever told you I had feelings for you. I was so naïve that I thought you might too.

You chose a 22 year-old. You, a 27 year-old, chose a 22 year-old.

I know you’re immature. I know I intimidate you. I know I’m not as attractive as the one you did choose. But why lead me on like you did? Like you continue to do?

Why?

We’re at an impasse now. With every happy couples pic she posts, I’m out. With every left on read snap, I’m out. With every hopeful comment you send my way, I know I need to fight.

I’m not talking to you anymore. You make me feel worse about myself and I don’t need that.I’m just so tired of being sad and stuck in the past while you moved on immediately.

You didn’t. even. pause.