There’s another thing about being a single mom, or is it just about being me…
Love actually hurts me.
The feeling of feeling (again) raises some kind of pain up inside of me that I can’t shake. And then I start lashing out, sabotaging my relationships, wishing away these butterflies for fear that they will turn into gray, evil moths.
Then I say things I don’t mean.
I hear them coming out of my mouth and I suddenly want to take them back. Rather than learning how to control this it seems to get worse as I age, as I become more cynical, as I become more accustomed to being single and as relationships seem more foreign, more complex and distant than ever.
I can blame that or pms or this awful, awful stress headache I can’t seem to shake but the words are still out there now – in the air, on his mind. I am just hoping he can forgive me or at the very least learn to recognize that like any animal, I may not be wounded anymore but the scars are still there. [click to continue…]
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