“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...

Two in one day.....

I showed up for class early as usual. I like the peace and quiet of sitting in a classroom alone. Call me crazy....you wouldn't be the first. Unfortunately, my teacher was already there. I try as much as possible not to EVER be alone with any of my professors, if at all possible. My classmates are easy to fool...I can pretend to be...okay, around them and they never suspect a thing.

So I walked in as she was running out to the copy room or something, so I decided to drop off my things and retreat to the smoking area until someone else showed up. I wasn't fast enough....

No sooner had I set my things down and she was back. She asked me if I was good with computers...after stammering and avoiding eye contact I told her it depended on what trouble she was having. OOPS! I got sucked in...her problem was something that was fairly basic computer knowledge looking back now...was I set up??

No sooner had she told me her problem and I answered, she put her hand on my shoulder and gave me the "therapist" look and asked, "So how are you doing lately?" LATELY?!?!? Am I really that easy to read?? I felt like a little kid getting asked, "Where does it hurt?" Like she could see my battle wounds. And yet somehow, I'm jealous of her sixth sense.

I'm losing it again. Ironic that this time I am surrounded by people who are going to be therapists...and most of the teachers are therapists themselves....but I can't ask for help. I won't. The last time I asked for help I almost lost everything. I have too much to lose now. I have to keep it together.....and cutting seems to be the only thing that makes the anxiety take pause and the loneliness relent.

I can't help but think that if I could find someone....that someone....if I could allow someone to love me.....everything would be ok. But who could love this?