Do I dare? Oh yes, I do. I take a test on the 7th day, even after saying I wouldn't until the 8th. It's negative of course. As it is on the 8th day. And then the rest goes a little something like what happened in September. Heartache and confusion and frustration and sadness. I am really beginning to wonder why? I feel a little toyed with, like if I'm not going to be pregnant, don't allow me to hope for 7 days, or 3 or even 1. What's the point? I'm just learning to despise hope.
But not for long. The hope returns.
Here's a poem I wrote after this second 'loss' for lack of a better word.
With every other beat, my heart is rushed with hope
In my blood, the desire is entwined with life
There’s no restraining desire’s flow
So I suppress the hope, the double-edged sword
Seeking out validation, wanting hope to be warranted
And the signs found me waiting, trusting
Each an inflating breathe, lifting the hope higher
My dreams becoming heavy with expectation
But I put my faith in familiarity, forgetting
The creator of law is not controlled by law
So my deflating heart rapidly descends,
The weight of reality falls, crushing me
Paralyzing pain and sobs restrict my breathe
Until I succumb to instincts, pulling in air
And strength. Strength to move past
But lacking the courage to wield hope again
Yet the desire in me won’t relinquish to fear
It still holds faith tightly in its grasp
And with another beat, my heart is rushed with hope
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