Carly Catastrophe











{September 10, 2008}  

I’ll attempt to turn this string of consciousness into a cognitive narrative of sorts. I can’t make any promises, the way I think is so bizarre. All at once I’m thinking of so many different things. But there is one constant theme in all of this. Him. The joy he causes me. The fear of losing him, the sweet reward after two plus years of waiting. I’m leaving in a month. Less than a month really. I’ll be off finding myself or whatever it is you’re supposed to do when you leave the nest. He’ll be here. With them. People he trusts and respects. People I trust and respect too contrary to popular belief. People who don’t think I’m a good person. People who are probably right about me. I’m terrified that when they find out they’ll tell him it’s a bad idea. I’m more terrified by the idea that he may believe them. I know I’m not perfect, that I still have a lot of growing up to do. But I’m trying and he makes me want to be better. His love is the first good thing to come my way in years. That light at the end of a long dark tunnel. My only hope of being more than that silly girl who had an abortion. And I’m so sick of people judging me for that. I know I made a mistake. I was 18 years old and I didn’t know what else to do. I was more scared than I’ve ever been in my life. And if I could take it back, I would, in a heart beat. I’d give anything to make it right. I know I probably don’t deserve a second chance but I need it.  It’s hard to succeed when everyone’s expecting you to fail.

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