At a mature twenty seven years old, I thought I had the world pretty much figured out. I knew what I wanted and I always knew exactly how to get it. Cold as that sounds, I lived my life through honesty and virtue, never taking from others what I could earn on my own. I had learned during my childhood that fathers couldn't be counted on to rescue you when you needed them as mine had walked out the door. I thought I had become hardened to that, and kept reassuring myself that I would be self-sufficient - I would never rely on any man. I would never let any man in my heart.

Fast-forward to January and I met him. He was a breath of fresh air, someone that I had known for years but never really considered and then one day I looked at him and he was different. He felt different. He has never raised a hand in anger or thrown an unkind word my way and honestly, that scared me. I didn't know how to deal with this man that wanted to show me nothing but love and didn't expect anything in return. I finally let my guard down and he completely captured me. Our relationship has been a breeze with the exception of the occasional wrench I throw in it. I'm still learning how to deal with my emotions positively and how to control the ever-present anxiety that presents itself at the most inappropriate times, yet he makes me feel like that's completely normal. I'm not a damsel in distress to him, simply someone he loves that needs his help sometimes.

Someone that needs his help more and more as the months pass, and my body grows and changes with the child that we didn't expect but happily prepare for. Now that my body is not just my own, sometimes I am overcome with emotion and can't express properly how much I care for him. Sometimes my frustrations get the better of me and I snap out of anger. Sometimes we lie awake at night with our backs turned, trying to find the words to fill the silence but too afraid to hurt the other. On these nights I whisper, "I love you" as tears fill my eyes and I wait for him to tell me to leave, that he's done with this song and dance and he wants no part of me anymore. Instead he turns over and places his arm around me, hand firmly on my stomach as if to say, "I'm here, and I'm not leaving." This small gesture causes me to collapse, hormones getting the best of me as I let my worst fear become realized - I am afraid of losing him.

This morning, when he told me he loved me too, seemed to give me life again. I know that feeling of reassurance is only temporary, and when the hormones shift and the anxiety takes over, I'll be counting down again, trying my best to keep him happy though I know he doesn't expect me to. I know that the same fight will ensue - the tears will return, with whispered words in the awkward quiet of the bedroom as I try to convince him that I'm worth keeping - and I know his reaction will always be the same. I place my hands on my still-growing stomach and know that this little girl will never have to worry about absentee fathers and wondering if people love her.

This little girl will have more family, more affection, more love than those that have come before her. This little girl will wake every day with a smile on her face and wonder in her eyes, knowing her mommy and daddy are waiting for her, and playtime is now. I close my eyes and can't help but feel emotional, because I know that I chose the perfect man to be her father.

I fell into love with you

like falling into a comfortable bed

safe and secure, hidden away from the world

no need to tell the world

daydreaming as we lounged

in our most vulnerable state

making comments about the future

unabashedly hopeful about something so precarious

a simple breath could change the course

eventually it did

those days i spent lazing in bed with you suddenly disappeared,

replaced with nights perched on the edge

clutching both hands together, a prayer,

waiting to see your smile in the doorway

more often than not it never came

the messages never received

and eventually, your voice never heard again

I fell out of love with you

like a victim in a car crash

hopeless and screaming at the hands of the clock

begging in vain to see you again

I didn't realize

the last time we spoke would be

the last time I'd ever hear your voice.

If I'd known, I would've kept the conversation going

from the night into the early morning

listening to each heaving sigh and each melodic laugh

embedding them into my memory

so even if you left, your face would never leave me.

I didn't realize you'd stop loving me

or else I would've poured out every drop of my heart

that beat only for you

I would've held tight and never let go

kissing you breathless and leaving you wanting more

so I'd know that I still existed

somewhere in your heart.

In your rush to leave me

I forgot to tell you what you meant.

That your PTSD had shaped me

into the perfect caretaker

and I knew you better

than your closest family.

I forgot to say that I'm sorry

for all the stupid arguments over

pointless things that had no real meaning

and if I could take them back I would.

I would say how lucky I felt

when I was loved by you,

and how every day I'd break out into song,

a permanent smile on my face,

knowing that I was the girl you'd chosen to spend

your life with.

I forgot to tell you that I loved you, too.

The one before him

who never really mattered

just a stepping stone

The one I forgot

you tried to love me fiercely

I wasn't ready

Michael William Mann

who touched me deeply with love

I haven't let go

The one after him

whose love could never compare

I'm sorry; I tried

Self-help books on how to love

To get over the man above ^

You painted me in

thick black lines

and taught me how to walk

back and forth between them

You let them dull the color

that existed in the deepest part of me

Bright yellows and vibrant blues

transforming into a dull gray

You told me that standing out

is the worst thing to do in this world

Placed a mold around my heart

and taught me values the masses agreed to

“DO NOT STAND OUT.”

My vulnerability could wreak havoc

an uprising of reality that could unsettle the sheep

I struck my wrists and let the colors bleed

then cried out,

“STOP SHAPING ME!”

The dull gray began to change inside

my body, growing and pulsing with life

The vibrant colors were back,

all shades of the rainbow flowing out

My eyes, for the first time, could see.

Each morning I awake to

Pounding in my ears

Ringing out, you can hear it

My heart beating

A frantic, steady beat

I know then, I am alive

It started

and ended

with one phone call.

I reached out

over the line

with shaking hands

and a fast-beating heart

and told you about

the night I lost myself

and sought absolution

in a razor blade and

a tub full of water.

Our wires must've crossed;

you probably didn't

hear me correctly.

As my mother

you should've ran

screaming, through the streets

until you could catch me

and give me a shake

and bring me back into

my skin to say

suicide is never the answer.

Instead you replied

"Oh. Well you must know

you're very loved."

and hung up.

You left me sitting here

with my doubt and self-hatred

and you let them

have their way with me.

Now I am half the person

that I used to be.

I hide from the shadows

and keep my head down

so that nobody can see

the shame that still exists

bleeding out of my pores

and marking me

A Lost Cause.

Now I take two steps forward

and three steps back

every day, a disjointed rhythm

that started when you ended

that call, and haven't talked since.

I guess I finally know

that all you saw in me

was just a reminder

of the life you would've had

if you kept me.

Some days were

the deepest shade of blue,

On those days I was able

to drag myself out of bed.

Some days were pits of black.

I'd wake up just to sleep again.