by Cali Love 2 years ago in humanity

Can you see them?

Photo: Joe Arciaga - Model: Me

Staring at the ceiling, in the dark, listening to breathing, I can’t feel my arms or legs. Honestly I can’t feel anything in between except the deep pain in my chest that can only be linked to the anxiety that fuels my depression. Am I good enough? For who? Does he love me? Or even care about me? I’m sure if I could just reach his phone I could skim through to find those answers... No. I don’t want to become the girls I can’t stand nor do I want to rely on invading his privacy to make me feel like this is a relationship. Is it though? We started off on fire, passion that burned so bright! Did the flame burn out? Already?

Our daughter sleeps soundly next to me in her bassinet. Honestly, she's the only true reason I put up with my existence. I wanted nothing more than her and would not take anything less. I thank her everyday for my reason to wake up.

He snores next to me, completely unaware that I stay up hours after he’s sunk so far into dreamland it would take half an earthquake to bring him back to today. That’s usual, though. He rarely ever notices when something’s wrong. When he does notice something dissolving my emotional state, he retorts with belittling comments or anger when I explain myself. That is if I even get the chance to fully explain myself before he either interrupts because I can’t think fast enough for him to care or I’ve already made him mad purely because I had emotions to start with.

It sounds so simple. “If you don’t like him leave, and clearly you don’t like him” is what you could say along with half my family. The problem is that I don’t like him, I love him. I used to like him, and we used to be best friends. I don’t know where we changed. Maybe "we" didn’t. Possibly, "I" did.

I wasn’t supposed to be able to have kids and until him I didn’t want them. Then again, before he walked into my life. It was me, myself, and I. I worked hard, paid my bills, did what I wanted and when. None of that happens now. I hate myself. Yeah I’m only three month postpartum, but I’m gaining weight, losing ambition, craving attention, but falling short on every little aspect.

The billions of emotions that are coursing through me making my tears flow and heart race are quite simply leaving me blurry. I’m not numb, I tingle. I should feel something but in order to be numb I would have to feel nothing at all. I do feel. I just don’t know what. It’s as if I’m trying to focus my lens but the room is too dark to make out the faces.

The scariest part about feeling blurry is you can’t ask for help amongst the dark room of people because you don’t know what help would be, so they just stare at you trying to find your focus, but you can’t look at them anyways.

Cali Love
Cali Love
Read next: 'Chocolate Kisses'
Cali Love

I might not change the world, but I can try nest best to enhance the one I give my daughter.

See all posts by Cali Love