Choice

He is our doing but he is my choice.

And I can only hope he won’t be thinking all his life why you didn’t want him.

I am terrified

Whoever said freedom is better, clearly did not care about the hardness of it.

Lilly Allen is singing “I need someone to rely on” in the background – really nice audio by Spotify sessions btw -, and I cannot help but feel absolutely right about my decision to let him go, let him be with whoever he wants to be with.

It became quite clear that he does not want to be with me, so why should we stick together? We are having a kid, yes. We live in different countries now, yes. So? Should I raise my kid with a constant reminder of why? Because for now, that’s all he is. Love as I know it cannot be like that. Love is action, love is words, love is kept promises. He is nothing like that. At all.

So it is my responsibility to realize, love will be given by someone else or for the time being, only by me. And I can only prey to God that he creates an unexplainable hole in his heart and that his love will grow in time. Relying on someone is possible and I intend to be the example of it’s possibility to my child.

But this blog is not about my child. It is about me. And I am dead at this moment. No matter how right I am, no matter how right my anger is, letting him go was harder than I thought it would be. Not because my eternal love can’t handle losing someone else, but because freedom right now seems like it’s going to stick forever.

I can’t possibly go back to having sex with different guys who like me but don’t love me. I can’t possibly go back to wanting sex from everyone. And I am terrified that that is exactly what’s going to happen.

Knocked up

You know that feeling when someone you care about is close to you yet seems far-far away? I know that feeling. And that someone is actually far-far away, not only with his heart, but his body and his mind as well. Guess what… I’m totally screwed.

I mean, how can I say that? I’m having a baby boy in a few weeks from now, I have a wonderful family, amazing brothers, amazing parent(s). Heck, my life should be crazy happy. There is only this tiny little problem, that I call daddy. Because the baby daddy is not a baby daddy.

What should I say? We met, he was there, 982 km away from me, we met a couple of times and at one point we got so lazy and so not responsible, that this baby thing happened. This baby thing changed my life – to be hones, in a good way. I already love him more than anything I have ever loved. So don’t judge me, for calling him a baby thing. But this is not about him now, this is about me and the baby daddy.

How should I have strength for anything when the only one who could be my true partner in this is staying in the shadows? Those fucking shadows.. I am growing to hate those. You know, ever since I met baby daddy, I have known that our story will be filled with disappointments, filled with tears and filled with so little happiness, one can hardly imagine.. I have always known. I can’t imagine my life without that man, I can’t imagine cutting my ties with him. This is what I get for having the time of my life in the past 2 decades.

But no matter how hard I try to bear the heavy weights, I am getting tired, am I getting frustrated and I am getting extremely sad about the very thing that brought the change I have been waiting for.

My baby might be the best thing that could have happened to me, but my baby daddy might be the worst. How and where do I find the strength to be alone in that relationship? What is the right move? Should I rebel or should I shut up? Should I be myself or should I be someone else? Should I define myself as his subject or should I dare to step up? Will he ever be mine? Will he ever look at me the way I look at him? Will he ever want me to be his family or will we always be the bastards?

See? Not so easy after all. Too many questions to handle at once. My head is exploding and no matter how hard I try to stand, I feel the floor trembling underneath me feet.