My Plans

We all make plans. Mine were pretty straight forward. Fall in love, get married, have children, live happily ever after in the country with horses. As I got older and wiser to the ways of the world, I found that falling in love was something that rarely existed anymore. People were becoming more superficial, using each other for one reason or another. Usually stupid or idiotic reasons. The women were looking for men who looked like rock stars and had wads of cash to throw around. What woman wouldn't? Someone to wait on us hand and foot and buy us fancy things so we don't have to work for it other than on our backs. Or knees, as some would have it.
The men, they were holding out for Playboy centerfolds and nothing less. Those of us who don't fit that mold feel even worse about ourselves and go on benders of Rocky Road ice creme and Sleepless In Seattle wondering why we can't have our Empire State Building on Valentines Day romance. Besides the whole size two phenomena she's gotta have a car and a job like he wants someone to mooch off of so he can forgo a job and play xbox all day. It's a double standard for both of us.
It's not the same for me. I don't care if he's in a rock band or so rich he has servants. All that really matters is if he loves me. I've put up a wall so high and thick that I can't let anyone in. At this juncture in my life, I don't have time to be hurt and hurt again, with my track record it's all I know. After a while, I thought that being hurt was all I deserved, and went out looking for people that would hurt me. Being hurt feels better than being loved because all I can think of is, why bother loving me? What do I have to offer? I'm flat chested, short, unemployed, and on top of that I have fertility problems coupled with baby envy. I can't walk by the baby isle at Wal-Mart without a catch to my throat and try my hardest to hide the tears that are welling up in my throat.
Being a mom was always the number one thing that made me work hard on anything, even if I was working myself to the bone. When I miscarried at age 20, I thought the world was playing a cruel joke on me. We took away your mother, why not your child? Some years ago I wrote him a letter, and then there are days I feel him holding my hand when I feel that my day is dark. All my days are dark now, I am aging and losing my chance at having children and while there are countless other women out there fighting that battle to conceive, I'm not really one of them. I don't know anyone else fighting my fight. They may have hypothyroidism or PCOS, but are they battling the not having thousands of dollars to throw into having a child on their own, being able to conceive, and support said child? I can't even support myself, and nobody will let me. Who else is fighting my fight?
When I look back at my life, I blame myself for all the bad things that happened. All these horrible relationships…time wasted in my life. I should've said no a lot more, been able to stand up for myself. But I gave up on me, like so many others have done. My sister thinks I'm a loser, I'm jealous of my cousins for having children and it's hard to talk to them because I want to hate them for it, and all the 'friends' I've had growing up who had children and gave me up. I'm the forgotten one that they can't relate to.
My tears are often veiled because I don't want anyone to know about this deep pain I suffer in silence. There is a peace in silence, and grieving alone. I've accepted my plans now, to be a statistic. A nameless faceless anonymous person whose dreams never mattered. Just another ghost floating in places no one else dares to go.