Brats

I am pretty darned clear I do not want children.

Sorry Marli, it's not that I don't love you, but given a choice, I am quite glad I did not have to care for you. If you had survived I would have given you up and I still believe I would have felt it was for the best.

Not that I would not have made a good mother. In fact, I think I am great mother material. I would work on the child like I tackle a project where national well-being is at stake. 150%.

Which is why I don't want children.

Either that or I'd prefer a child of 10 or 12 thank you.

No infants with their manipulative wailing and pawing and cooing. Spoilt brats. And no, I do not think they are cute after about five minutes.

One Half Of Me

It is almost a year now since you and I have found each other, Tigger.

I look back and still stand amazed at how the universe brought us together, at a time when neither of us thought she was ready for a relationship.

I love you. I just worry sometimes that you are not taking your life into your own control. I don't think I have the energy to do that for someone else one more time.

But I have faith in you.

Unlike her, you will not fail yourself and the people you love. Because unlike her, you have so many behind you, supporting you and wishing you well.

You often times, show me what a sad person she is. How her life is a mere shell in so many ways.

You in contrast are beautiful and loving and sincere and truthful even to yourself. That counts. It makes the difference.

I wish you all the very best. And I hope you will always be my other half.

The Good Years

How come I still think of you once in a while?

I still mourn a little at the loss of us. Not because I want things to return to the way they were, but because I still believe what we had was real and true. And to throw it all away was a darned waste of love.

It's not easy being someone else without the other is it? Or being with someone else?

As I approach the one year mark with Tigger, and pass the one year mark of separation from you, I sometimes feel like I sit on a fence with both legs swung over the new side, but an eye over the shoulder towards the past. You are now the one I cast a backward glance towards.

I still sometimes remember how you used to mumble you loved me even in your sleep.

I don't know what it is. I have at times wondered whether it means I don't really love Tigger. But I do.

She is in more ways the person I sought for. More than you. Yet I cannot erase the years I have spent loving you because they were good years to me.