Loved or Unlovable

To be loved.  Someday I want to be loved.  Truly loved. 

 I have been unloved.

This seems more than strange to me and I am not sure that I would say that I am really loved.  I can say without  a doubt that I love Vincent and Mariska.  I can say without a doubt that I thought that I knew love but really I don't. 

I can say with out a doubt that I am loved by Valerie and Neil.  I can say with out a doubt that I only say I love when I truly truly mean it with every fiber of my being.  Love is not something to be taken lightly. For me love is a forever, not a sometimes or a maybe. 

When talking about the people that I love, there are very very few people on my list.  I was asked if I loved little Callahan and I didn't have an automatic response. I am happy that she is free, that she is able to laugh and to be and get to be a little girl like she never had the chance but do I love her ?  I don't think that I do. I don't think that I love her , and then I feel so very guilty, how can I not ;but I don't.  

I am not sure she is lovable which includes me and 13 year old Callahan.  

I am not sure that we are lovable. 

 This is a strange post because its hard to write about something when you are not worth what you are writing about.  This is a very strange thing.  I think that there have been people that I have loved and more often than not those same people have more than hurt me and I realized that 

my love meant nothing, 

I think my entire life there has been a different view of love because the word was sometimes in my home but there was nothing that I would ever call love.   

I love my children because they are my amazing children.  I love them just because they are.  

I love them on their bad days and good days and every day in-between. 

I am not sure that I truly remember feeling loved growing up.  I was not worth peoples time and somehow I saw that I was unlovable.  

In my life time I have been loved when its been convenient.  

I have been loved when I was able to provide but when things changed there was no more love. 

I do not love little Callahan.  I do not love 13 year old and I surely do not love myself. 

Somewhere in my brain I see love as pretty ,gentle and constant.  

Those are not things that I have had.  I feel ugly used and embarrassed by this life and I feel that the things I have experienced in this life make me even more than unlovable.  If that's even possible. 

 I see the pictures in my head experience all of the memories and feel more than unlovable. 

I have worked more than hard for little Callahan to be free, to play, to laugh to run in the grass with-out her little body being in pain.  I love that for her, I am grateful that she isn't heavy under the weight of all that has happened to her. I know she still remembers, but it doesn't define her.  She is an innocent little girl . She is not a slut, she didn't ask for what happened to her I.  I know that she will never forget but those memories are not in the forefront of her mind anymore.  I see that little girl and am grateful but I also see the memories I still have, I feel the memories and feel like there are still pieces of me shattered.  

I am ashamed of the things I remember, I am ashamed of the life that I lived. But if she is happy and free that is an amazing thing.  I struggle to love her because I see those things that happened to her and I can't get passed them. I see her under men, I see her far away, I see the tears I see the pain and I think she needs even more love.  She needs it so much more and that gets lost somewhere because I see what was done to her and someone in my head that makes her more than unlovable and something that there is not even a word for. 

All of this scares me, because if  I can't love the innocent little Callahan , how in the world is there ever going to be love for 13 year old Callahan or for me ? my biggest fear is that there isn't.

One of the things I want most in the world is to be loved, but somewhere deep down that is too much to ask of anyone. To love me is to ask for too much.  Maybe my job in this world is to love others so they never know the feeling of being 

UNLOVED.  

I heart your heart. 

 

Just time

 His chest is just like his.  It makes me want to cry. Today I saw things different for the first time and my world began to crumble. 

Some pieces of that day are so very clear. Then there are other pieces that I don't remember at all. 

There are many things I don't remember why today did I remember that ?  How can something so tragic be connected to what is most precious ?

It breaks my heart, stabs my soul and tears every fiber of my being. My heart breaks for my children that never asked for any of this. 

Horrific. Devastating. Unimaginable. 

I have always blown it off, I was a slut, I asked for it.  I was the one who told him I would go shopping.  I should have known better, Right ? I have blamed myself every day since Aug 22, 2003. I just wanted to be normal, to be included, But I never asked for this. 

18 years ago I believed that pillow just fell on my face, never questioning anything else. That pillow fell on my face and I went far far away, this is just what happens to me. In that far away place I was raped.  I got pregnant. That pillow didn't fall, he knew what he was doing; that pillow was put on my face. 

Hard Truths. 

Brutal Heart Wrenching truth. 

My heart forever bruised and battered. 

He walked out the door, talking about his shiny beautiful BMW. 

This is a piece of my story. My children are mine and I would do it all over again to have them. 

I heart your heart.