Sebastian's tree is in full bloom. I still remember the hollowness inside as we dug the whole, wiped the dirt from our hands, and let it be. It grew, with effort, and survived. It towers in the yard, white blossoms swaying in the rain reminding me that life is still beautiful.
Why is this anniversary so hard? It's not even here yet, but I feel it hovering on the peripheral. Is it because five years has passed? Or because V's existence has eclipsed the lost ones in the eyes of everyone, except me? Because no one remembers, or cares, anymore. And that's seems so unfair. To pass from this life and have no one notice, no one remember, no one acknowledge that yes- you existed.
I fell off my diet this past week. I was doing so well too. I've kept jogging, kept walking, but I've kept eating and eating too. Brownies. Cookies. And yes, even soda. I always weave my emotions in with a hearty dose of calories.
I hate infertility. I hate how it makes me feel. I hate how, no matter how grounded I am, I still dive into hope. You know. Surely this cycle? It has to be this one. Except it's not. The odds aren't in my favor, but I end up hoping anyway.
I feel like a fool.
I was so laid back starting out, and I still am to an extent... but emotionally, it's starting to waver. Trying this time isn't like the first time, but I'm starting to feel that familiar despair kicking in. That desperation.
I don't think I can get my weight loss off this plateau until we go on our break from treatments. I don't have the willpower to fight two battles at once. Emotionally, I'm not equipped for this.