I was always the one that ended things. I would stop the abandonment from happening. I cannot recall a time in my life where the other party ended a relationship with me (this happened before Mr. kayak). I ALWAYS did the leaving. I would never allow it to happen. NEVER. I had become something like an oracle or a prophet. I would always be analyzing the relationship and gaging where we were to ensure if things took a turn that I would be the one to recognize the inevitable end and snuff things out in a logical manner. Not this time. I let it be what it was. I didn’t try to organize it or plan how it would end. He simple moved on and I accepted it.
I had always known how difficult raising children would be and I knew that raising them alone would be even more difficult. My ability to plan helped with the logistics but children require so much more than a logistical task master. They need a person to talk to. Some one to teach them what life is about. They need more than food, clothes, and shelter. Children need to be loved. Loved and parented so that they can grow, live, and pass that love on to the next generation. Sounds simple but I wasn’t raised that way. I did’t feel that I possed enough love for myself, so there was definitely not enougy to be pass on to the next generation.
More than anything I wanted to be loved. I wanted to know that somebody truly loved me. I craved to feel of value to another person, mostly because I was unsure of my value. I knew all the catch phrases, I knew that I was beautiful inside and out, I knew that I was supposed to love myself, I knew that I was in charge of my own happiness, and I really believed those things but only on a surface level.