dear diary.

i need an outlet for the thoughts. mostly the feelings, but those come from the thoughts. i need to imprison them in written form so as to freeze them in time and purge myself of their horror.

i am a very emotional person. i see life as this magical experience of fated things. i wish i didn't. i wish i were more practical. logical. realistic. i wish i didn't have to wonder "what if?" i wish you would come around.

your mom told me that i don't have to be her friend. that she thinks you stay in that relationship because it is convenient and she doesn't expect anything from you. anything at all. fancy that. that you being with her is like being with one of the guys. that she doesn't know what the outcome will be but that she wishes for your family, too. that it would be the ideal situation. that you could learn how to be a father because you never had a good one. that she wishes so much more for you in your life. that she worries. i worry, too.

you tell me that you don't know how to get over me but that maybe you don't have to. i wish i could live as freely with the vein of you running straight through my heart. or should i say artery? my entire self has been affected by you. when i look in the bathroom mirror at my body, i see you there. i see you in the single stretch mark hidden by a sterling belly ring. i see you in the way my skin is slightly more pliable than it ever was before. i see you in the shape of my breasts. i see you when i walk out of that bathroom and look into the face that is often a miniature replica of yours. i see you in his demeanor. i see you in my own. i see you in my mind's eye smiling that coveted grin, your whole face lighting up, wrinkling at the eyes, for brief moments. i see you in old photographs. i see you holding my hand and walking on the beach the week that we got married. i see you when i fall into passion with someone else. every single time. you've left so many marks.

i tell myself to stop loving you. i tell myself that this is unfair to both of us. but then our son asks why you don't come home with us and i see everything all over again. i see our future. i see our struggle. i see our worth. i see our happiness. i see you. always you.