My Foreseeable Future

I don’t know what I expected, I think, because I always expect the worse, but had he told me to leave, for the first time, I would have had to disobey. I know he thinks me fragile, or touched, or .. perhaps a combination of both, but in truth I am stronger then what many give me credit for. I haven’t been this happy in a very long time. I can’t stop smiling, which in itself, is odd.

I no longer feel like a woman who is deteriorating day by day, as if at any time the flesh will fall from my bones and I will completely disappear. I am alive and I am hopeful, despite the uncertainties of other elements. This house that I have, for lack of a better word, bonded with, the dreams of a son that harbors a message I cannot read and a future I can’t quite see. The cut on my hand which is taking far too long to heal. So many factors coming together in a culmination of curious details.

It doesn’t matter that he is not in love with me. I understood that risk from the birth of my own feelings. I’ve never held close the conventional aspects of daily life and my wisdom has been bruised far too often to think that a mere slip of paper between us would make any difference. I do not seek to heal him from the agony of past relationships, nor do I feel the need for him to conform to any ideals of love that I once had. I accept him as he is, and in turn, I feel accepted as well.

I also told him of my suspicions. Finally, the child in our foreseeable future is more than a wishful vision. Now I need only a physician to confirm it.