Thursday, May 3, 2012
What is it about you that keeps me coming back? Is it your smile? Your eyes? The air of mystery that surrounds you? Or the fact that you 'get' me? Why can I not let you go? It's been almost 3 years since we broke up. I love that I can still call you my best friend, but I wish we were so much more. You know that... I'm terrified that I will never love anyone but you. When I date someone, I compare them against you to see if they are good enough. I know it's not healthy, but it's kind of hard to move on when I'm not over you. So cliche, right? I feel like I'm writing a teeny bop song or some corny movie line out of The Notebook. It feels so cruel that Allah could put someone in my life that is perfect for me in every way, yet deny me the happiness of being with them. I wish that when you looked at me, you would see the one you loved. That the very thought of living without me took your breath away-as it does mine. They say time heals all wounds, and that if you cut someone completely out of your life that it is easier to move on. I say bullshit. We tried that. For one long year we had zero contact. When we saw each other in public, we wouldn't even say hello. I emailed you April 22 to apologize for the fight we had the last time we spoke...I didn't even expect a reply. But you did. And we started talking again... May 13 you came over...we watched movies and hung out. When the time came for you to leave I was laying on the couch. I leaned up to hug you and you put your arm around me and just held me for a long time. I glanced up and your eyes were closed and you were smelling my hair like you used to. You pinched me cheek, so I bit your hand. And you kissed me. That kiss held the world for me.
...It's been almost a year since I last wrote. I ended up naming my little girl Ari Inaya. Maybe if her dad had been around more, I would have considered his name choices for her (Lillyanna Any'ah), or giving her his last name. Sadly, he couldn't be bothered to show up for the three days we were in the hospital when his daughter was born. So much has happened over the last year, and I am happy to say I no longer suffer from PPD. My little girl is happy and healthy :) My mom has moved into my extra bedroom and watches Ari while I'm at work and school. It hasn't been easy at all, but I'm making my little dysfunctional family work. We are no longer trying to make things work. Wishing something were (was?) different doesn't make it so, unfortunately.