Hush lil baby, don’t say a word, Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.

Today I am struggling. 

I can’t control my emotions.

I knew it would be hard when I came home from the lake cottage, to face my real life alone without you.

I want you so bad. I cry for you on and off throughout the day and I don’t know why I want to feed the hand that bites me.

I’m 54 years old and I am crying like a fucking baby, because you made me feel like one. You were safe and warm and your arms were my sanctuary and I don’t know anything but you and I feel so afraid.

I know now how a child feels when a parent turns abusive. The confusion is real, because the same person that loves you can and will hurt you again and again. You love them. You want to trust them and receive affection and care, but you guard yourself, unsure when the next blow is coming.

I’m ashamed of myself for my pain and neediness. I don’t want to be weak willed. The urge to run to you and feel your lips on mine is the hardest urge I’ve ever had to fend off.

I want my daddy. But you left me. You didn’t care enough about me to not hurt me again and now I have to face what I know is the truth.

I can’t eat or sleep. I want you so bad it’s like a physical pain, the longing.

I feel like I must be the most fucked up woman in the world. I feel stupid. Pissed. Weak. Ugly. Unwanted. Flawed. Afraid. Ashamed. Sick.

And the list goes on.

But I don’t want to be bound like that, in great emotional turmoil and facing conflict within myself. I want to go back into hiding. It’s so much easier to be alone with my thoughts and feelings.

When I held my daughter in my arms for the first time, I knew I’d lay my life down for my baby so when you called me baby, I believed you would protect me from hurt.

Instead, you inflicted it. On me. Your baby.

I don’t know why you loved me for so many years but never wanted me to be part of your real life.

All of it is confusing and I don’t want you to keep apologizing. I don’t know what I thought would ever become of our relationship, of us. I don’t know why I was so hopeful that it could be real, probably because you were so good to me in so many other ways and I believed we had worked through our problems with this subject but I guess I was mistaken. I was always satisfied sexually in the past 7 months, the interval in which you were with your other lover…this time around.

I imagine her to be seductive and beautiful, because you could not give her up for me. I imagine her to be so much more than me and her ghost is causing me hellish turmoil.

I want someone to love me like you love her and like you love your wife. Why can’t that someone be you? Isn’t being my hero enough? Why does she have to come before me?

When you are looking down at her as she’s sucking your cock, I want you to see my face and hear my cries. When you put your face in her pussy, I hope it’s me that you taste and smell.

I hope she gives you everything I couldn’t or didn’t.

I’m not going to let her in line in front of me. Fuck no. I forfeit.

I don’t want to be a sore loser.

But second place is just the first loser in the competition.