Let's hope for the best

Chapter 45: Broken dreams

Of course, sometimes I walk down the boulevard of my broken dreams:

and they're all there, staring at me, with a mocking grin.

And I feel how much of a failure I am.

I walk through happy children;

Through birthday parties with big cakes, and holidays by the seaside, building sand castles on the shore.

And little girls in pink dresses, with loving mothers, and big bows on their ponytails.

And empty rooms, freshly painted, that smells like baby powder, and honey shampoo.

And happy families, young couples holding their babies, and toddlers, painting with mom's lipstick on the walls.

There are clouds of tulle and orange blossoms, and walking down overcrowded churches, and taking the perfect pictures, that'll get a thousand likes.

And snowy Christmas days, holding hands in front of the fireplace.

Down the boulevard of my broken dreams...

It's pretty crowded over there.

...

And it's so easy! It's so easy, everyone says.

It is only me who appears to be unable to grasp the sense of it.

I should simply build it all, anew. Quickly.

With the first perfect stranger that walks past me.

And I should be happy, then.

...

And in the meanwhile, I feel so disconnected: as if I'm living a different life than the ones that everyone else is living.

I'm the only single in my group of friends. Soon, I'll be the only one without children.

And I feel scared, sometimes.

I'm scared of trying to have children again. I'm scared that I'm too old.

And I'm afraid to get off the pill; I'm afraid of the bleeding, and the pain, and the constant tiredness. And dizziness, and falling down flights of stairs again.

And I'm scared of tying my life to someone else, again.

I'm scared that they might turn out to be not-so-loving fathers, as I've seen too often.

That all the promises and the sweet-talk, won't mean anything; when they'll fall in love with someone else, and their old partner and kids will become just burdens.

And of course, of course, I know, that this is not bound to happen.

I know.

But I'm still scared.

I don't trust people easily, now.

I wanted my fairy tale wedding, and kids and all, with Theo, because I trusted him. I liked him.

And now, I don't know what I want, anymore.

...

I still have to figure out my life; and in the meanwhile, other people's lives are moving forward, instead.

They marry, they travel, they have children.

They buy bigger houses.

The last dinner I attended, I was the only female not either pregnant, or trying to, or holding a newborn in her arms.

And I, what am I doing?

I'm picking up the pieces.

Getting off of anti-depressants.

Painting my little apartment, on my own.

Just, trying to stay afloat. Trying not to drown.

And I've just recently brought myself to buy a new coffee machine: I hadn't had one since Theo had taken it away, last year.

I was happy, then: proud that I finally made up a new, pretty coffee station for myself.

Well, I guess I could say, to each, their own accomplishments...