Slap In The Face

For a fleeting moment surrounded in madness I felt that urge, that pang, that "Oh how I'd love to have a baby." The maternal rush.

I know it's impossible so I dismissed it, squashed it as deep as it would go, covered it in darkness. We all know these kinds of things feed and grow in darkness. Like a fungus.

 Somehow it felt better to push it away, out into oblivion. Far far away. 

I too realise that I cannot deny these feelings. They exist and I need to acknowledge them. It's easier to write about it than to actually voice them. That way they're not as physically real. You say them and someone might hear you...

I'm always going to have these feelings, I always have. Albeit it's the first time I've felt this way since Yuna's birth and death. I never thought I'd feel this way again. I realise I've got a very long life to live with these feelings, those pangs in the heart, in the pit of your stomach, in your aching empty breasts and the constant slap in the face reminder that, that's all they'll be. Feelings. Dreams. Wants.

Never a reality. My days as child bearer are over and it kills me. A huge part of me is gone, my life, my purpose, my existence.

How do you heal from that too? Am I supposed to be learning something from all this? It all just feels like a cruel joke.

Haven't I been challenged enough?