“It is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it” - Rainer M. Rilke

Had the best night's sleep that I have had in ages. Granted it was more of a substance induced coma, but never-the-less greatly needed and much deserved.

Didn't do much today. Ran some errands with step-mom. Laundry. Went out and did a puzzle with the old people. Another daring day...

I hate it when my kiddo is gone. No joyous sounds of laughter fill the house. No clutter of toys to trip on during midnight trips to the bathroom.

Going to a baby shower for a relative tomorrow. My sister is also expecting. I went nuts buying gifts for them both. Buying tiny socks, blankets, shoes, etc...made me take inventory about my own life. I'm not where I expected to be.

Sure, I'm in grad school. Sure, I'm a mother. But not once, growing up, did I ever expect to be a single mother. Nor did I expect to still be in school in my late 20's. I didn't expect to be renting an apartment in the middle of nowhere....and most of all...I didn't expect to be alone.

Once upon a time, I was beautiful. I'll admit it now, looking back. I was! I was firm and taut, had a beautiful head of golden locks that would make any Cali gal jealous. I could turn heads. I was never single long. Somehow all of that changed. Well...not somehow...I know how it changed....

I felt in love. HARD. He was amazing. He saw me, knew me...all of me. Even the crazy parts...and still loved me... He was my best friend...and for a while that's all we were. Each of us in deep relationships at the time. I could count on him though. It didn't matter if I was having a melt down at one in the morning, or just wanted to go for a walk. He was always there....until he wasn't.

He was my perfect match. There was electricity in his touch. Making love with him was something I have yet to find again in another. My walls descended down and our souls touched while we tumbled 'tween the sheets. It was pure emotion...passion...yearning...pleasure.

No, the he that I speak of was not the father of my child....or maybe he is....or isn't....it depends on how you define father I suppose.

I went away with him one fateful Valentine's weekend....it was wonderful.

Weeks later I discovered I was pregnant. He came for a visit....I guess he'd met someone new...we weren't exclusive....but something had changed in him.... He didn't want to get serious. He didn't want to hurt me, but he didn't want where we were headed. He had his career ahead of him...the military...he didn't want to drag a family around the globe with him....I never told him I was expecting that night...I didn't want to hurt him....I wanted him to be happy....overwhelmed...I tried to kill myself....

I would have died that night...were it not for a co-worker coming over to see why I wasn't at work and hadn't called in....to think back, I was suprised anyone (especially him) noticed, really.....

He saved me from myself...it seemed like fate.....he didn't care about my delicate condition...he would raise it as his own...we never even discussed it...that was just how it was going to be...the kiddo was fine....it had to be a sign.....so we tried........about six months after the kiddo was born I caught him in our bed with another....I was broken.....am still broken....

After all this......is it any wonder I'm still single....???

I've let myself go and have since gone brunette in an attempt to keep men at arms length....A beautiful woman once said, "If you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best." Apparently...no one wants me at my worst....not that I blame them...