For whatever reason I have always found writing a lot harder when I am happy or at peace. There seems somehow to be less I need to express.
I can do happy, I can laugh out loud and I can smile and make jokes and live my happiness. I cannot live my negative emotions. I cannot sulk or shout in anger or lash out and be that person.
That is why I write through my frustrations. I write my sadness, I write my fear and anger, because it seems to offer the same relief without the same physical repercussions.
I spent some time reading some things I wrote while going through my last gut wrenching break up. I find myself wishing me now, could tell me then, that it was all worth it and that it would get better. I no longer feel that pain, but it is there, in those words, the words which help me understand why I am who I am now, why I want what I want now and why without a doubt there is nowhere I would rather be than right here and right now.
The break up in question really broke me, like literally left me questioning my value and the value of everything around me. Left me face down in a puddle of snot on my bathroom floor every night for at least a month. Made me lose sight of what really mattered, forced me to catch a wake up eventually by slamming into a solid brick wall.
I had been chatting to Geekguy online for the better part of two years, we fell in love, I packed up and moved myself and the cherubs to Cape Town in the hopes of happy families and riding off together into the sunset. Within a month we had broken up. Two weeks later, when I peed on a stick, there were two lines. To cut a long story short, he insisted termination, I refused, he left, I cried, he made me the bad guy for wanting to keep my baby, I hated him, we fought, we name called, he threatened to sue for custody, he asked for custody, I got my balls back, he accused me of using the baby as a weapon, I thought I was having a miscarriage, I was called a liar, we fought some more, he blamed me, I blamed him, I starting chatting more to D, I stopped caring so much what he thought, I stopped hurting and became determined to have my third baby and make something of my life, I moved back to Joburg, D and I fell hard and fast, Geekguy faded until a week before my due date, Geekguy was told to disappear, Geekguy signed over all rights to my Squishy, Squishy won the daddy jackpot when D stood up and claimed him as his own.
Today my Squish is 14 months old, D and I are engaged, and we’re working toward that “happily ever after” One step at a time. Its not easy, but so far it has all been worth it.
Where I was then and where I am now are two different worlds occupied by two different people. Yet I remain eternally grateful for that world and that girl, as they have made me who I am now, and right now I am kinda liking who I am