I sat across the kitchen table from my husband this morning, and I told him I felt lonely and bitter.
I don't want to feel this way, but I do. I thought these feelings would go away with the passing of the holiday season, but they didn't. I thought that saying it aloud would make me feel better.
But it doesn't. It just makes me feel like a bitch.
With every pregnancy announcement, every passing cycle, these emotions get stronger. I feel like the outsider looking into a circle filled with women who have moved on. I feel pissed off because I'm still here. I wonder who will be left to support me when I do finally resolve this. I wonder why people think it's okay to tell me how tired and miserable they are because they are pregnant. I wonder if it's possible to be happy for someone and yet hate that you aren't in their shoes at the same time.
I have nothing left to give, and yet I keep trying to be the happiest, most supportive person I can be. The well is dry, and yet I find a way to reach down and find a smile. Half of me. While the other half is miserable and asks, "Why not me? What did I ever do to deserve this?"
Then I think what a fucking terrible person I am for thinking those things.
And I don't blame you for thinking the same.