"You're doing so well"
"It doesn't feel like it" she snaps back before groaning ever so slightly.
Another love
Because that is what it was.
Another love.
More love she would have to share.
Boy or girl?
She didn't know and that was ok/
It was her choice at the end of the day.
Something she could actually have a choice over.
Relief
Everything was ok.
That was good.
It felt wrong though, she was scared.
Scared of failing.
Becoming ill.
Scared because she didn't have the support of Peter.
That was so scary and she felt so alone even though she wasn't.
You could've been the one
Should've.
Peter should've been the one.
"Beautiful" she breathes out with a sigh and smiles down "How did I do that?"
She didn't know.
All she knew was that once again she was in this predicament without Peter being there.
That was hard.
I've been having a hard time adjusting
"Come on go to sleep" she tries to soothe the screaming baby in her arms
"Mummy"
"I know sweetheart, I know" she sighs and closes her eyes, she was so tired
But I didn't pour the whisky
She was coping, just about getting by.
Boy, she wanted to succumb but,
At least I'm trying
She was trying so hard to be the best parent she could.
Sometimes she wonders what Peter would be like in this situation.
Whether he would be better at her but no.
One: she would never have that.
Two: he would reassure her and tell her that she was doing just fine even if she felt different.
Three: she wished he was here.
I see this for what it is
"You need to take some time out, come on"
"Michelle I don't need anything" she cries clearly stressed bouncing her child on her hip "Come on sweetheart go to sleep"
"Carla I will step in" Michelle states not wanting to but she felt as if she had no choice "Go upstairs for a nap, I'll deal with these two"
Sorry I can't see facts through all of my fury
"No don't take…" she cries, Michelle's arms were around her shoulders "I can cope!"
"Sweetheart let us help" Michelle murmurs into her head, Carla just cries into her chest
It felt like it was all gone.
That's because it was.
She was so scared and she wondered if Peter was here would it be the same?
Another thing that would remain unknown.
"You're not coping Carla," Johnny says quietly, Carla just turns around and cries "Let Michelle help"
And I didn't like the ending
"It's getting better, thank you"
"It's what we're here for"
She just wished Peter was here.
She would always wish Peter was here.
Protecting her.
Loving her.
No one's love would equate to Peters but something came so damn close.
"Please dont tell-"
"Oh woah hold on" Michelle pauses placing her hand on Carla's shoulder "I'm not keeping it from-"
"Please" Carla begs glancing down at the sleeping child in her arms "Please Michelle…"
I gave so many signs
Maybe she just wasn't cut out to be a mother.
Of two.
Maybe she just wasn't cut out to mother at all.
To even exist.
To nurture.
To love.
To have.
And to hold.
There is no amount of crying I can do for…
Peter.
Simple as that really.
Some days were better than others.
Granted the majority were worse but in this world, she had something ever so precious.
Peter's child.
To love.
To nurture.
But she didn't know whether she could do it.
The world kept throwing obstacles in her way.
Obstacles that she wasn't fond of.
I had a feeling so peculiar
"Welcome home!" she beams swinging the child around in her arms, the giggles emitting from its lips
Lies.
It would be a lie.
Can we just get a pause?
She wished she could pause the moments, the happier times with Peter.
But when she thought about wanting those times back…
She wouldn't have achieved what she had ever since he had gone.
It was her guilty pleasure to think about having a life with Peter once more.
Maybe she didn't understand herself anymore.
That was ok, right?
Everything has changed
"It's good to be home, I missed you"
"I lied," she says quietly just looking straight ahead "I wasn't coping, as usual, Michelle stepped in. I'm sorry"
"Oh…right"
"Sorry"
"You don't need to apologise"
"No?"
"No"
"Either way I'm sorry"
All you had to do was stay
"It was for the best" she sighs opening the brown envelope and sighing "He couldn't cope could he?"
"Its ok to be sad about it" Michelle smiles putting an arm around her shoulders
"Nothing would ever come close to the sadness I still feel about Peter" she states placing the envelope down on the table and then walking upstairs
You were all I wanted
Maybe she didn't want him.
A stop-gap between her feelings for Peter and...well…
"Let me in"
"My feelings don't matter anymore. I dont matter anymore"
She knew she didn't want him and the thing that she wanted?
She couldn't have.
Unless…
So it's going to be forever?
"Please help!" the child cries, Michelle opens the letterbox "Please Michelle"
"Alright I'm coming" she assures the child opening the door "Hey, it's ok, what's happened?"
We'll take this way too far
"Is that it then?" Michelle questions "So you're just going to throw all of this away?"
"What's the point anymore?" Carla questions passing her the papers "You deserve them more than me, give them to him"
"Fine as long as you don't have any regrets" Michelle states, Carla shrugs
Everything works out in the end
She didn't know whether she felt ok with her decision.
In her head, it made sense though.
She was a burden
She knew that better than most.
Now she knew how Peter felt.
God, she hated how his influence from beyond the grave was endearing.
Maybe it was an addiction.
The irony.
Dies of addiction, now the memories are her addiction.
"Get a grip, Carla"
Mentally scolding herself never worked…
Losing my reflection in the water
"Who am I now?"
"Someone who's been through hell and back" Michelle mutters bouncing the child on her hip "I still can't believe you went through with it"
"I still can't believe you're holding it against me" she shoots back before glancing to the child "It was for the best. You can see that right?"
"It's your decision" Michelle shrugs before sighing, Carla rolls her eyes
This was the right thing to do.
This was it.
She never really had done the right thing but this was the right thing to do.
Ripped and torn
She felt so torn.
Sitting at that table.
Pen in hand.
I don't want this to break you
But it did
She would always break.
Broken.
Scarred.
More importantly, disturbed.
But I've got no one else to talk to
At least the paper was there.
The paper would listen but it wasn't that people wouldn't listen.
She wanted Peter to listen and she was fixated on that.
Fixation of a possible disaster.
So can we just pretend?
No.
She was done pretending.
She needed to face up to these feelings of worthlessness and guilt.
Regrets
Maybe it'll work out in the end
No.
"I wanted to give you these sweetheart" Carla whispers standing on the doormat, she bends down and passes the child a box glancing into the kitchen to make sure they weren't interrupted "They're all addressed. Now, remember they're very precious to mummy and you mustn't show daddy ok?"
"Ok" the child beams up at her, marvelling in this secrecy before running off and up the stairs
"Are you ok?"
"Perfect, couldn't be better…"
Only if that was the truth...