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Fiction is inspired by reality

Maybe it was a good thing I lost the baby. In the end, you can’t lose something you never really had, and if I had given birth to his child, I’m not sure I could have made it through realizing that he was never mine. Sometimes I wish I had told him though. Maybe if he had known, he would have stayed. Then I could have kept my happy delusions. I can’t decide which is better, truth or happiness. I wish they could come together. What is happiness worth if it’s all a lie. I loved him. I still do, in spite of everything. I wish I could tell him.
I was so lost the day the baby died. I didn’t know what to think, looking at the little hand floating in the toilet. It came out in pieces, small barely recognizable body parts covered in blood and fluids. I cried for hours on the bathroom floor before I finally pulled the handle, and watched my baby go down the drain. By the time my mom came home, I had washed up and resigned myself to quiet desperation. She never even knew I was pregnant. No one did.
I can’t believe I’m thinking this way. No matter what has happened that baby was still my child. My child who never had a chance to live, because I wasn’t taking care of myself. I got so wrapped up in missing him and wishing for what wasn’t that I forgot to care about what was. I forgot to care about the only constant in my life, myself. I didn’t want him to know. I didn’t want him to see me that weak. I was falling apart inside, and trying so hard to keep it hidden from the world.
She says that they had dating for months. He said she was nothing, just a crazy ex who didn’t want to let go. Either way, my heart is eating me from inside. I don’t know which of them is telling me the truth, but I don’t care. Unconditional love is a scary thing. The truth is I don’t care if he was lying to me. If he was, I would hope that he would tell me the truth in the end, but it doesn’t matter. I love him. I want to be with him either way. I can only hope I’m the one he would choose if she is telling the truth. The frightening fact is that he could hurt me much more than what should be alright, and I would always keep coming back to him.
My heart is bare and bleeding in his hands. He has the power to save me. He has the power to end my life. I just hope he won’t take advantage. Vulnerability is something that and intelligent woman would never let herself truly experience. If you don’t guard your own heart, no one ever will. What can you do when he stops your heart from beating? I know that I could live without him, but my world would be empty and grey. I try to think I’m not a fool, but who else would put everything they have in someone else’s hands? I guess that’s just what you do when you’re really in love.

Posted by jadedabandon on 2008-03-31 20:25:00 | Rating: