Young love never seem to last.

I was convinced that I was in love when I gave Hank my yes. He was from a strict religious family so we had to get married as soon as we found out to cover up what we had done. I should have known that it would never work out. I should have known that it wasn't love. It would never become love. I wanted it to be, but Deidara was closer to my heart than he would ever be.

He knew, he accused me for cheating all the time. We often had heated arguments. He wouldn't believe me. Who could blame him, he knew my past. He looked at me as some social project. Something he could show off to his friends. He would tell everyone about my past. They would hate me for what I had done, and admire him for what he was doing.

I should have known that I would never fit in with his crowd. His perfect, rich and aspiring friends.

I would never get used to the judging glances they gave me. They didn't care who I was, only who I had been. I started hating them, and I hated Hank for being one of them.

I would compare him to Deidara, he would never have done this, he would never had said that. It was true, he would most likely be too high to do or say anything. I did the same with my problems, I got high. I got addicted to painkillers, always wanting, needing more. Never showing it to the world, it was between me and my pills. Nobody would ever have guessed.

It came as a surprise to everyone when I and Hank started having problems. He didn't like my attitude, I was too wordly. I didn't have the same morals and views as him. We would never agree on anything, not on a thing.

I was the one who filed for a divorce. He didn't want that, he didn't want anything I wanted. He was afraid of what people might think of him. He was never worried about me, or my feelings.

I moved out by myself. I didn't want to have anything more to do with him. I was still young, my life wasn't over yet. Still I experienced that I wasn't as young as I used to. I started drinking again. I would go to the closest bar every night. My problem grew bigger by each night, I wasn't able to hold a job anymore.

I had bills to pay, I needed money so I started delivering. I brought the drugs from the dealer to the buyer. It didn't pay as much as it should. Now I would say that the money wasn't worth the risk. It didn't always pay enough so I called up Itachi to see if he wanted to meet. He had died 53 years old, alone in his bed.

I didn't know if that was my turning point, or if I was tired of waking up places having no idea how I got there or what I had been doing. I wasn't as young as I used to be. I wasn't without worries, I wasn't with Deidara.

I would think of him every once in a while. I had given up the idea of forgetting it. Something told me he was alive, and he might even be waiting for me. Before I decided to go look for him I had something important to take care of. I couldn't let my son grow up with his father. His disgusting two-faced father who had no love whatsoever.

I had learnt what it meant to grow up without love. I couldn't live doing the same towards my own son.

It wasn't easy. Nothing was never easy to me. I spent months fighting for him. I was humiliated getting every mistake blown up in my face in every meeting. I got to hear what a terrible person I was, how irresponsible I was, how stupid I was and most important of all, how unfit I was to be a mother.

I stuck it out and ended up with having him every second weekend to start with, then having him every third week. I moved to Paris to be closer to him. I got a job as a waitress, I moved into a new apartment, and I found the love of my life. I had everything I needed to be happy.

"I choice her, goodbye."