I knew this would happen...

love

what a nasty word, yet not at the same time. I love to tell my children I love them, and I love (there is is again and again...) to hear them say they love me too. But adult love, that is not the most wonderful thing I am starting to believe.

I am so busy in my head right now... wondering and wondering about myself and how I really feel. I am more upset with myself then I am prepared to be, and yet I have to face what I have been doing both to myself and now to my children as well. I read back on what I have written and I am so ashamed, and confused. Was it love that led me to remain in such an unhealthy relationship. I read back that it has been 2 years that he has been protecting and living with that other female, yet sleeping and continuing a relationship with me and my kids.

We have a new baby in the house, a child I wanted so badly. But I have also come to realize that my lost child cannot be replaced. I have not shed those daily tears since I found I was pregnant again, and everything seemed to be so good, until the day after I got home and my sister asked me about it... something like was everything better, and I started to think, and things haven't been the same since. The feeling of love and peace was replaced by doubt. Not that it had not already been placed there by this man, who yelled at me and called me a fucking bitch on the way home from the hospital, telling me how much he hated me... again because of this woman that he lives with. This man who was with me through the delivery, who spent all but 5 hours with us in the hospital, who just needed time. Again had to remind me that I am not his girlfriend... that he was only ever having fun with me

"what did you think I Loved you every time I fucked you? No, I was just having fun"