Dreams....Interrupted

I'm not sure what to write.  Just....something.

Admitting my everlasting sadness over the loss of our would-be child did help.  A little.  At least now I don't feel like I'm hiding in the shadows anymore.  Or as much.  Often in my mind these days I hold her, praying that we will have her again one day soon.  Most of the time I beg her forgiveness.  While I'd still do anything to turn back the clock and undo the terrible mistake, I feel more at peace.  Maybe because I know, somehow, she forgives me.

Some days ago I dreamed of glowing light and beautiful sunshine in a clean, warm home.  Tristan and I lay together on the couch, nuzzling and softly talking about anything that came to mind.  Our son, who looked to be about three years old, played with his toy trucks and blocks on the carpet just a few feet away.  From another room came the soft cries and babbling of a baby, somehow I knew it was a girl.  I asked Tristan if I was still beautiful to him.  He smiled, kissed me warmly, and said I was even more beautiful to him now that I've carried our children.  My body had the softness of a mother and he loved every curve.  He was going to show me just how much he loved my curves but I reminded him that Junior was right there and we had a baby girl to attend to.

I woke up on a mattress on the floor of a friend's house, alone and in the grayness of early dawn.  I smiled inside, knowing that soon it would be reality.

And that night, when I went to visit Tristan, he handed me a letter.  Then after I read it and swallowed every scream of pain and horror that threatened to erupt, he told me he fell out of love with me.  We're over, the wedding is off, he doesn't love me.

When I finally went back to our friend's house, I sobbed into a pillow and begged God why He would give me such a beautiful dream when He knew it would be ripped to shreds the same day.

To have something to hold on to.