How wrong is it to want to be loved? I mean honestly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. My greatest dream in life was to get married and have children, and be absolutely adored by my family. Is that so wrong to want?
I would guess that your response would be ‘no of course it’s not wrong,’ but with my life, you’d probably be able to guess why no one would want to love me. Growing up I was always the weird kid, the one that no one wanted to sit with. I had an overbite and my parents were always drinking. That was okay though, cause even though they’d get in arguments sometimes and try to hurt each other, I knew Mommy and Daddy loved each other truly, and I hoped that they would love me. But they didn’t. When I was very young, the state took me out of that house, away from my Mommy and Daddy, and they didn’t even care. They just kept on drinking. I tried to write to them but apparently I wasn’t allowed to have any contact with them.
As I grew older I started to understand my situation better, but I tried to learn as little as I could about it. I was starting to grow a passion for learning. I was going to be a surgeon! The human body had always fascinated me, and the idea of opening someone up, seeing their organs working and how they ticked, and then fixing them up so that they would be better was incredible to me. People thought I was weird for this idea, but I didn’t care. Boys didn’t care either. I apparently had a banging rack, and this drew a lot of attention. Since my self-esteem was rather low, compliments always managed to make me more compliant, and I found myself in the boys’ locker room several times. I protested it and even struggled at first, but no one would believe me anyway, so I kept my mouth shut. It was very well that I did, cause if I opened my mouth then they would put something else in there to shut me up.
I may seem very vague and oblivious to my situation, but believe me, as an adult, I’ve been figuring this out and I don’t really like to talk about it, so I’m going to focus on something else for now. One of the boys that I met during that time was more charming than the others, and he never asked me to do bad things for him. He was a good Christian boy, (that’s even his name, Christian, hehe) and he was always kind to me. We stayed together from then on, and we got married last year! He is the love of my life. He’s beautiful and kind and sweet and interesting, even if he may not be the smartest.
He’s made some very unintelligent decisions along the way. A little while back I caught him fooling with some other girls, and I was very angry about that, obviously. He learned his lesson about those girls, after all. He shouldn’t have been hanging around them in the first place. One crazy bitch even tried to kill him! Shoved a blade into his chest! The doctors at the hospital weren’t sure I would be able to bring him home again, but I made sure he was well enough to come back to me. Our love can never die, you see. We’re soul mates.
We’re holding each other on the couch now. Everything is perfect. He’s been distant and not very talkative lately though. I have to carry on most of our conversations, and I have to urge him to hold me, but I know sometimes he just needs a little pushing. I couldn’t ask for a better husband. He and I have been trying to have kids, but I guess it’s not taking. He hasn’t been rising to the occasion, you see, and while it’s a little insulting, I understand. I can deal with just having his company. He is enough for me, I don’t need to have kids to be happy. Oh, how I love holding him! He’s getting thinner and paler, but he’s still nice to lie next to, and it’s reassuring that he is always there. His organs are starting to show through the tears in his skin though, and it’s a little unsightly. But I’m not shallow, I think they’re beautiful, after all, it’s what’s on the inside that counts. It’s a little annoying when we’re cuddling though, especially with his ribs breaking when I squeeze him too hard, and the opening in his chest widening when I stroke him. But oh well. I have his heart now, in my hands, and that’s all that matters.