I’m Lonely, I Can’t Have Kids, & I Mourn The Babies I Aborted In My Youth.

Do you see that really funny person over there? That’s me. I always have some witty remark poised at the tip of my tongue just waiting to come out and earn a chuckle or two. And the only thing I love more than to smile and laugh, is to make other people smile and laugh. But what all my jokes conceal is something that isn’t very funny or jovial at all.

There are moments when the laughter subsides, and the silence weighs in, and I’m forced to face the true reality of my existence. And the truth is that I feel overwhelmingly alone and empty inside.  The only moments worse than these moments of emptiness, are when I remember the person I truly loved who rejected me and crushed my heart so many years ago. I remember his life. I remember his family.  Though I don’t begrudge him anything (even though he truly destroyed me and I probably should), it hurts to know that like everyone else around me, and every man I’ve attempted to love before him, they are with people, living their lives out, and I am here empty and alone.  I can’t even have children.

I mourn the babies I aborted, from relationships that were doomed, every day of my life.  Those men now have children and I am alone.  I guess it’s because of that that I feel like I don’t deserve happiness. With that said, I pray to God each day, and I ask Him to forgive me for the bad decisions of youth.

I tell myself that I don’t need a man, a relationship, or children to lead a happy life, and I know that this is true. And for the most part I do a pretty good job of being happy.  But when I strip away the distractions, the goals, and the defensive laughter, I’m left with a brokenhearted emptiness that feels as though it is devouring the very essence of who I am.  My soul feels like it is becoming a black hole.

Not a single person close to me even knows I feel this way at times.  They see me doing well. They see me as an inspiration. They see me as an independent, smart, and successful woman. And it’s ironic, because the brokenness of my heart feels anything but those things.

I guess the point of this is, we all don’t really know the people in our lives like we think we do. Sometimes the laughter is covering up the most beautiful of suffering. It’s been so many years, and I’ve learned to accept my pain as a part of my life. But each year I get older, the pain seems to get tougher. Life’s a bitch sometimes.

image- stevendepolo