I write. I write because if I don't, the words in my head that I can't find the muscles in my mouth to say out loud will jam up and spill out as tears. As awkward silence because I assume the other person can read my body language. As panicked gasps because I didn't exercise my right to say "no."
I write because one day my kids will want to know why I was like this. The internet remembers everything unfortunately.
The internet remembers the confessions made like I was madly bargaining with the universe to bring my then Husband back to me, back to his children and God. The internet remembers the excitement and overwhelming joy from each baby's "first." The internet will never ever forget the humbling acknowledgment of both Logan's heart defect and Lou's autism diagnosis.
The internet remembers my truth and sometimes it shines truth just as hard as it lies.
I write because one day my kids will want to know why I was like this. The internet remembers everything unfortunately.
The internet remembers the confessions made like I was madly bargaining with the universe to bring my then Husband back to me, back to his children and God. The internet remembers the excitement and overwhelming joy from each baby's "first." The internet will never ever forget the humbling acknowledgment of both Logan's heart defect and Lou's autism diagnosis.
The internet remembers my truth and sometimes it shines truth just as hard as it lies.
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