26 February, 2012

Jude vs. Keith

I'm glad I decided to unblock The Gymnast on facebook and talk to him again. You see, absence makes the heart grow fonder and I've realised I don't feel all those things I think I feel. Not even a little bit. The Gymnast is one of my best friends and he has been good to me but I've gotten over him.
Ever read the poem 'The Best Way to Get Over Somebody is To Get Under Someone Else'? It's on deviantart and it has got this situation covered in my eyes. I don't care about The Gymnast the way I care about my boyfriend. I don't love him like I used to, like I love my boyfriend now.
It's taken me too long to realise I am happy with what I have and I don't need the memory I have perfected. My boyfriend hurts me; he makes me cry and insecure. He does this because he is insecure, because he is afraid of someone else loving me and taking me away.
As often as he hurts me, he takes it all away. He wraps me up in cute messages and hides his feelings in them so I'll read something and suddenly see just how much he loves me. He tries to be manly but he's really just a mushy lovesick young adult at heart.
Did I mention he also looks so gorgeous with his daughter? He loves her, so much and that's worth sticking around for. The way things are going, I doubt he's ever going to be interested in having any more kids but at least I can spoil Marissa. I love him so much that even missing out on having kids wouldn't make me leave. That doesn't mean I don't still want them though, just that I'd be willing to give that part of me up for him.

05 February, 2012

Eww, girl germs

Forgive me but I use this place like a diary. I found a lump on my cervix today. We're going to skip all the weird questions such as 'What the hell were you doing with your cervix?' and move on with it. This post is not for the squeamish.
I'm nearing ovulation and I wanted to confirm that by checking my cervix position and the like. Soft, high, medium open. And then a tiny hard bump just next to the opening on the left side. My left, not yours.
I'm freaking out. Last time I had a girly parts check up, I was sprung with inactive cervical cancer (pre-cancerous cells) on my 6 monthly ultrasound.The ultrasound was done in October, treatment began in November, miscarriage in December. I was busy and sad. That ultrasound was followed by six months of intensive blood work(weekly), hormone therapy(daily tablet), monthly ultrasounds(monthly. durr) and a few doses of cryosurgery(they stick liquid nitrogen or carbon dioxide on the cervix). Then another six months of fortnightly blood work, my daily hormone breakfast and an ultrasound every second month. And then, thank Bejeesus came the all clear.
Since this was inactive cancer, I don't have a 'remission period'. No five years of high alert or similar. Just a ton of nerves requiring constant vigilance.
Which sometimes comes in the form of a finger up your woohoo.

03 February, 2012

Buttercup.

Lately I've found that I build things up in my head. Donating blood wasn't as scary or painful as my brain was telling me it would be neither was going back to school. Yes it was hard and I wanted to fuck some people right up but it wasn't half as terrifying as I told myself it would be. It was sad without Ben.
I had no panic attacks and I haven't cried yet today. I slept through until 8.30 but I got to school on time. I have heaps of homework but I'm reasonably interested in completing it. I wasn't sure about my friends but they came through. A lot of my teachers pulled me aside but I survived their questions.
Tell you what, that nap was definitely welcomed when I got home. Ok, that series of naps. Each twenty minutes long with 5 minutes between them. I had three and they perked me right up without the worry that I won't sleep tonight.
I went to school with a hickey -_- That I was not too impressed with but I didn't realise it was there until it was all there. Trent's idea of a compromise to tattooing TAKEN on my forehead...It's like a little note that says "Don't even think about thinking about it or I'll fuck your face up." A little possessive but it actually feels ok knowing that he's worried I'll find someone better.