My heart hurts.
My soul is in pieces
My body is no longer my own.
My uterus is literally a piece of useless anatomy.
I am no longer whole.
I am a stranger to myself.
I am exhausted.
I am beaten.
For the first time, I feel like it might be best to end this chapter.
I don’t want to continue hurting. In fact, part of me knows that I cannot continue living this way.
If I stop now, I know I will survive. If I have to face another loss, I’m not so certain.
I feel a need to find a way to fully embrace what I do have, rather than focus on what I have lost and what is missing.
I am sick of waiting for an answer. I’m tired of hoping for a better tomorrow.
So I sit here, at a fork in a road, hoping I choose the right path.
I don’t know how to choose the right answer. And I am afraid of the consequences if I choose wrong.
I am broken.
I need the scars to heal.
I need to feel whole again.
I need to reunite with hope.
I need to find myself, whoever that might be.
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