He doesn’t want to be here. I have to be here.
He is not going to come back. Not even for six months.
I am not waiting now.
I needed that hope because I wasn’t excited about the baby. I conjured images in my mind of a happy unit of 3.
Are you excited? That’s what people ask you.
Over and over again. Are you excited?
Are you excited?
It’s going to be here FOREVER. I want to meet it. But then I want to put it back inside me. I want to pop it out and look at him or her and stroke and cuddle and then I want to pop it back into its safe little universe.
But if we were together, it would be ok. We could look at him or her and be amazed. We could build a world together out of fantasies in our mind, the old magic of 3.
But he is not coming back.
It’s like going through a breakup over and over again.
But I am strong enough now because I am excited. Finally. And I don’t need him. And it’s going to be okay.
He is not going near my vagina again.