and just like that... I’m a single mother.
and just like that... he dumped me.
Just like that.
i don’t think I’m ever going to understand his actions...or decisions in this matter. I feel like he’s monochromatic and I’m color and the two worlds won’t forcibly blend without effort and sweat. my sweat comes too late apparently. my efforts weren't enough, went unseen, and unmatched and unheard. I can try to imagine... and assume... and even feel bad for him.
And I probably will... for a few weeks. Or months. Or years.
my mistake seems to be in thinking his love was unconditional, that we both were loving unconditionally. if i look at it that way, that we both weren't...the current circumstances are slightly easier to swallow. my mistake was in not asking him to define ''i love you'' and explain his love. i think about it as mistakes and it helps me chew the panicked questions like, "how can i/we afford to live now?" "how will i support myself and this baby?" "what will i tell this kid if/when he runs out on us later?" "is my life ruined?" would perhaps go down smoother.
it's painful going over everything in our relationship with a fine wire comb, but that's all i've been doing the last five days. the fights we'd had, i've forgotten. the reasons for anger, i've forgiven. the foundation we were building... no matter how rocky... i took as secure. i was alone in my forget, in my forgiveness, in my foundation. goes to show how important communication is on both fronts. speaking and listening. i recently read a book on conversation that has changed my outlook on a lot. on myself. on him. on my family. on my future.
which makes it feel all the more too little too late.
it's not enough that one person in the relationship believes love is enough... you both have to.
in my temporary state of pregnancy, i feel unlovable, unbearable, unreasonable, unwanted, and insane.
so my quest for therapy continues and in the meantime i'm part of three support groups a week. a sacred pregnancy circle, a post pardum depression and anxiety group, and a general pregnancy support group. each different and in each one i'm the dark cloud of doom. i've never tried so hard at anything in my life... if things didn't come naturally, i sort of just let them drift away. instead, i sit there... husband-less and without a fancy SUV, tear stained, makeupless face, and explain my week of current sadness, my thoughts of wishing this baby would come out in clumps of matter and blood when i pee, and how desperate my future is without a job or savings.
and the other women just stare at me.
grateful, i'm sure, not to be me.
they head home to their significant others and embrace them with gratitude and forgiveness... all the while thinking ''at least i'm not that crying girl in group...''
it makes me sad... so so sad that he has run away from me, that he's run away from us. from me. i hate myself for still being in love with him. i hate myself for thinking we can talk through this. i hate my denial. i hate this anger. i hate this hate. i hate these hormones. i hate this pregnancy. i argue with all of these things each night in my dreams. it's embarrassing and unsettling that even in my nightmares...he's kissing other girls, cold shouldering my tears in public, and shaking our baby to death.
hormones are no joke. depression stings. regret is a bitch.
and just like that... it's just us, Nugget.
where i'll post the in's, out's, tween's, and twixt's of my world of art mixed with pictures, links, opinions, and rants. (oh, and curse words. lots of curse words)