People around me keep getting pregnant. As people do. But man does it hurt. Like deep down in that core of me that is so sad that its never our turn. And no, your success story doesnt really help me because well, im still hoping every day for something that doesnt happen and ive kind of stopped seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. If im going to be honest your happy story just turn me into an ugly, jealous monster that wants to hide under a blanket. Pretty huh?
I think you need to have gone through this to really understand. How your heart break every month and after a while you stop hoping. You stop considering it a possibility and just shut down that part of you. Its easier when you dont feel. And even if hope is the last to go its fucking painful having it crushed again and again. So its easier to not hope. To stop thinking about names or imagining what books you will read or how you will show them your favourites from when you were little.
I think that might be why being alone at home is easier at the moment. Its easier to shut down the emotions when things arent in your face. To hide in books. To float in a non thinking vacuum. To exist rather than live.
Things are easier here. On the sofa with Woolly. Under two blankets and with books about fighting evil and no babies in sight. Gingergread dough and marshamallows only an arm away.
A genius invention. Sock slippers. Like cotton clouds for yout feet.
My dress for Saturdays xmas party at Soren and Bettinas. I feel like i can win Christmas in this. And as you know, this year is all about winning Christmas.
Ha. Sock galore. My feet will be warm and cozy in these awesome things. Loving the puguines. Feel like i need one in my life. Asap. Anyone who wants to give me a pup for Christmas will be my friend forever.