Mad

Nowadays, I look at him and think to myself, "I’m so tired of waiting."

No, I don’t just think to myself. I say it out loud, in other ways. But no, he can’t care less.

28th September, his extended family had a birthday celebration for his grandmother. I sat beside little Chloe and talked to her and fed her, except when she was not hounded by the other relatives for a little play time. I was so happy that she wanted to sit beside me and insisted that I be the one who fed her although I seldom see her at his place these days as we always go back late in the night. That part of the day with Chloe was the best in the entire day, better than my lone time, better than my time with him. I thought, and I thought.

I want my own family and my own child so badly.

Missed my period again. It has never been regular. Always late, always irregular. The most regular is when it would come once every 2 months or so. Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. I have always been worried that it would affect my fertility, would affect my chances of becoming pregnant one day.

By the time he is ready to settle down, by the time I manage to conceive, I wonder how many years later it would be.

I bear a grudge against him, for shortening the amount of years I have with my future child/children, if I do manage to have many. When I was younger, I would have thought that by this age now I would have one, if not two of my own.

And then it makes me wonder, do I really want to marry him? Or do I want to marry him so that I can have a child of my own, legitimately.

So exaggerating. Me. But the thought of my fertility, or infertility, scares me, and makes me want to cry. I think I’m gong mad.