My Blame
It felt wrong. That it wasn’t there anymore.
Not like there was much to begin with, but nevertheless I could feel it every day.
It wasn’t a feeling of fullness like you have when you’ve eaten too much, or like when you really feel your abs after a good workout.
The only way I can describe it is that it was like a natural state, like my body has always been that way, from the first moment on. And the only way that state should have changed would have been if it gotten exchanged for the feeling of holding my baby in my arms and being proud seeing it grow more and more everyday outside of me.
I just felt empty instead.
He said he wouldn’t think less of me no matter what I decide, and I didn’t think less of him when he left me to make the decision all by myself. But I was sad, maybe angry, that he didn’t ask me to stay, and that he didn’t put any effort into trying to make me choose differently. Because with this, it gave me the feeling that it was I all by myself who gave up on everything. And that I just have myself to blame.