I will always remember my pregnancy as a traumatic experience.
I am not the same.
Nothing is the same.
Nothing stays this way, anyway.
I resent you and the promises you made.
I hate you and the promises you’ve broken.
You don’t get to have it all.
Neither do I.
I am honey and cream and sustenance. I am passion and fulfillment. I am dreams that come true. I am the feeling of falling into bed after a long day. The light that shines through the curtains in the morning. I am the scent of rain. I am comfort and contentment. I am blueberry pie with ice cream. I am rest and excitement. I am the anticipation, I am getting what you want. I am getting what you need. I am a firm embrace, the long shadows that the sun casts in late summer. I am rebirth and glory. Fresh pineapple and ice cold water. I am a day at the beach. I am the knowing that everything iS meant to be. I am the mystery of the moment, fully realized. I am your worst nightmare.
I know there is someone somewhere who would see me as enough.
I am enough.
Just not for you.