To the images of my past. yella: Images-
You know, many people would say that I don't connect much with you the way I should, and that I'm in denial that one day I have to face you. Truth is, I run from you. My entire past I run from. The question is, why?
Today I decided to clean out my closet. You know, literally. It was the last thing I've touched since my marriage ended, and I'm not sure why I decided to do it, and the truth is that I'm only half there.
I found an entire box of you. An entire box of images that I chose to ignore because they remind me of how much I f*cked up. Once upon a time I had a "life". It was a fake life, and I was miserable, but it was a "life".
I looked back at some of the first pictures that were taken when we first moved in here. How empty everything was, and how clean it looked. Little did I know back then just how screwed up my life was going to become.
As I looked at you, my past images, I asked myself if it's too late to have a life again. Is it too late to build the life I should have had? I looked back at some of the old wedding pictures and how awful I looked. I looked at my face, and even with the smile, I didn't look happy.
I saw a couple of picture of me when I was pregnant with T. God I was fat. Not pregnant fat, but fat. Fatter than the wedding pictures. It was depressing as hell.
Then I found images of M's 30th birthday and how thin I was then, but like the fat pictures, I didn't look happy.
I often ask myself why I even married him. I knew we weren't going to be happy and that he couldn't love me the way I should have been loved, but what made me do it? I believed it was normal, and the thing to do.
I used to dream of our life together... day dreams. Often. Like I always did as a kid. I had this knack of making myself believe that I was happy, even when I was far from it. I lived in a fantasy land. I was supposed to have that happy life. I never really got it.
I look back at you, my images, and I see a life that feels centuries old. It feels like a total waste. What do I do now with this next part of my life? Can I make it into the life I should have had? Am I too old for it now?
Images, I want another baby. But is it too late? Have I had my time? Can I infuse this new life into my past life and get my dream? Or like everything else, is it too late?
I have so much work to do. I had a house once. Will I ever have it again before I'm 50? It'll be too late to have a baby then. Maybe I've had my life.
What a waste.
