Well, I'm not pregnant. In case you were wondering and all. It's a fact that makes me feel good and bad, happy and sad. I'm not going to be a mother. I'm going to live until I'm 103 - another 61 years - and I am never going to be anyone's mom.
Okay, it looks like I found those tears I was looking for. And the reason I wanted them.
I can't have this taken away from me. If it's not in the cards I will live with it but I can't spend my life with someone who says I can't have this, especially since he's already got it. No, being a sixth or eighth of a parent to the gem isn't enough. I'm sorry. Even is she moves in with us in her teens - which, let's face it, is complete conjecture right now.
I said something to him the other day that I wasn't expecting and didn't know where it came from or why it popped up when it did. I said "You're never going to marry me, are you?" And later "I don't have time to be with someone who isn't willing to make that commitment to me."
Am I ready to make that commitment to him? Sometimes. With terms.
He has to stop threatening the end. The ultimatums. If I tell him to fuck off one more time it's over? Well, that's pretty fucking solid, isn't it? I'm not willing to watch my p's and q's with him. I will do it with every single person in my life but I'm not doing it with the man I live with. I'm not willing to watch what I say or be afraid that I'll say the wrong thing.
I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't be here at all. If I'm still having these thoughts, maybe I should listen to them. Maybe I need to go back west and get back to my life.
(I don't want to go back west. Even as I was typing it I knew that. And I do want to be with him. But I think I also want to try to get pregnant. I don't want to try, I just want to open my life to it. To the possibility. The possibility. And if he really doesn't want that, maybe I should find someone who does.)
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