Not even a week later

It's Wednesday. 5 days since the surgery.

Diary stuff:
It's October, and I'm just as depressed as I was October of last year. Well...maybe not as bad...but getting there. I'm just so bloody bored with life. I keep thinking how I'd love to move to some small quaint town and work in like, a bookstore or something. In my mind, Virginia is where it's at. i don't know why. I know nothing about Virginia. I guess as a kid I liked the letter "V".

My happiest memories were when we lived in this one small town in ((home)), and although I'm sure i'd be miserable there now because ti's one of the coldest places in ((home)), there's something to be said where everyone knows each other and there's a sense of community. Where I live now, everything and everyone's so sprawled out. Kids can't just bike to their friends' houses or anything. Maybe that's also why I had a thing for Chandler...i knew in a heartbeat if I wanted to move anywhere, he'd do it. He'd move anywhere for me. Whereas Joey doesn't ever want to leave ((this state))...it meant a lot to me that Chandler wanted to move to ((home)), that he wanted to meet my family, that he remembered people's names. I don't think Joey even knows how many aunts & uncles I have, and he definitely doesn't know their names.

I'm taking a leap and switching to just pantyliners now, I can't stand wearing pads. Watch today be the day I get a woosh of blood.

The antibiotics are a pain, they're massive. Last night I had to take one without water, which I'm pretty good at doing (ironically, taking bc pills at a young age, you get good at not needing H2O for meds) but damn if it wasnt' nasty going down.

I want to run away. I always run away. I ran away when i graduated college. I ran away from jobs by just getting another one when I didn't feel like doing a project. Somehow I fortunately still managed to have a career as a result.

I do not feel like a grownup.

In my complex, there's a ton of kids. It used to drive me nuts, because I wanted one so badly, and I felt like they were part of a club that i wasn't privy to. Now, it's a whole other sadness. Yesterday when I stopped my car at my mailbox, there was this hot dad with his little blond girl running around on the lawn. He looked up and waved to me. Just the joy he had on his face watching hsi little girl running around. And the look on her face, like she was the smartest person alive for figuring out how to walk. And i pictured my kid, slightly dark skin, dark hair (i can sort of imagine what the kid would have looked like, regardless of the father), and i literally pictured her standing next to this other little girl.

I felt no bond, nothing with it when it was in me, but now that I don't have it, I miss it. All i have in my head is the memory of the pregnancy sack on the ultrasound.

Sort of reminds me of Gabby on Desperate Housewives, when she lost her baby...just that she didn't care about it until she had the injury.

Unless you've had an abortion, no matter how pro-choice and "whatever" you are about it, it still really fucks with your mind on so many different levels. I'm thinking of finding a support group, there's some birth choice center down teh street from my house that has them. Will call them later.