I couldn't feel my legs, i was battered, destroyed, I wept uncontrollably every night but as a woman I had to put on strength in the day. Food lost its taste and I lost weight too. The feeling grew from hurt to hate, I detested men, anything that looked like it, perceptions changed and I couldn't help it.
I hated flings, one night stands, I never tried it because of how emotionally driven i can get and then I met Tim. I went out for my usual 1hr morning walk that ended with me talking to Tim for 5hrs on that faithful day, time ran so unbelievably fast as I had the best conversation of my life. We planned our next meet, he was so warm, charming and loved basically everything about me, treated me like I'd always dreamt of, I was stuck.
In the sweet sour journey of about 6 months something wasn't right, a certain call he always had to excuse himself to take. I paid less attention to that as I had him to myself or so I thought...
He was married with 2 beautiful kids, this realization did not hurt as much as the pregnancy test strip i held which read positive while on the toilet seat...i was pregnant!!!.
He was my best companion and could read my slightest body language, without words he knew something was not right. I thought I had found a partner to paddle life's boat with, i was in love but it was only a fairy tale that never existed.
I took a long walk and never looked back despite his persistence, destroying another woman's home wasn't part of my bucket list although life has not been so fair. It's been 2 years and i can't say how difficult it is to fight the urge to look at my baby girl as an experience rather than a mistake, the hurdle of a single mum is compared to none, societal shaming and my hate for love...Mum once said "love doesn't hurt you, a person that doesn't know how to love does ", and that hit me so I wore my garment of hope that someday I will tell a different story.
NOTE: IT IS A FICTION.