It's not something I like to do because it makes me feel strange inside. All mad and hurting, like I can't get it out and I'm not even sure I want to.
I loved her. And in a place that says it's okay, I know that she loved me too. In spite of what she did, and how she was.
On some level, I believe that things had to turn out the way they did. How could she have stayed, knowing what I was, knowing what was inside of me... and that she brought me into the world. How could she have lived with herself?
But past the pain and the denial and the desperate acceptance, I believe...that I deserve better. Because, I'm me 99% of the time. Not the monster.
I'm... human.
Right?
So... I can only wish to forgive her. Remembering that she didn't love me enough--that comes a lot easier.
But then again, so does hating myself.
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