This time next month I was supposed to have a baby, two actually, though one was lost from the start. I abhor the fact that I still feel it, that something in me knows that the clock is still ticking towards the inevitable due date and that it saddens me. I should not care! I should be able to do as I have always done and purge every negative feeling into something beautiful. With this, I can’t seem to do that. Songs, a screen play, painting, cathartic photo shoots, everything I do to forget just reminds me. Every gift, every card, every pregnant woman I see is a glaring reminder of what could have and should have been.
Hatred, grief, sorrow, torment, it all seems to rest firmly in my chest and it is almost suffocating. Whoever says that I am not a fantastic actress should in reality be my biggest fan, because my cheerful mask has so convincingly hidden this consuming sadness that they are fooled by it. Perhaps I should take a bow? Or maybe revel in the glory of finally honing my craft? No no.. because then they will all know, they’ll see that this weakness has put a deep crack in my in my previously impenetrable armor. Instead I will carry on smiling my plastic smile, merrily greeting those who cross my path. I will continue bringing a smile to everyone’s face and save the world one pit bull or injustice at a time. I will remain that bubbly girl who seems so happy despite all of the public and private disasters, because that is what everyone needs me to do.
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