Turning Inward

I got invited to your child's birthday party, but I declined.

I am beckoned to congratulate you on baby number three, but I'm staying away. 

I got asked when we're having children, and husband jumped in and weaseled our way out of it.

I'm turning inward because that's the only place that feels right. 

And I'm done feeling like a bad person for it. 

I feel bad enough about all of this that I won't feel bad for doing what I need to do to get my life back in order after these years that have ripped me apart and shaken everything that I thought was a given in life. 

There are things that good people do, and I'm not doing them. 

I'm refusing to believe that makes me a bad person.

I'm also done caring about how my reactions to your news affect my status in The Universe.

I'm done wanting to be a better person who handles this better than I have. 

You know what? I haven't cried in public. I haven't told anyone to fuck off when they shared more good news that made me hurt inside. I haven't hurt anyone's feelings. I haven't made my burden anyone else's. I haven't cried myself to sleep every night. I haven't tried to change anyone else.

I think that's handling the damn thing.

I've turned inward because it's comfortable here, and I'm so fucking tired of being uncomfortable. I'm so tired of trying to figure out what life is going to be like without all of the things that we have dreamed out. None of that is comfortable, and none of it ever ends.

And I'm sorry that I still don't want to hear your good news.

Wait. I'm not. 

I'm not sorry. I feel like I should be sorry, but I'm not. 

I'm just not there yet.

Sorry, I'm not sorry. 

If you need me, I'll be inside.

As always, it's hip to be square, kids.