At some point in life, when you think you've finally grown up and have more than entered adulthood, you come to a realization that the social construct of maturity, of growing up, is just a sliding scale. Maybe it starts small, and you notice you've changed just a little into some cranky old lady and go to sleep just a little bit earlier - or maybe one day you wake up thousands of light years away from someone really special and realize you don't have it in you to drop all of your responsibilities to see them again.
Or maybe it's the cynic in me, slowly growing. I don't know.
It's just.. ugh.. So frustrating! How can I make this work? Will it work? Should I even try anymore? Is it my fault, his fault, nobody's fault - should I have just given up on everything I wanted to raise a child with a man that I probably would see just as much of if I had as I do now, halfway across the galaxy? So many questions! Maybe a year ago I would have chosen an irresponsible choice and just ran away again and holed myself up in some glorious mansion that made me feel even more alone than I ever possibly could have imagined being with the person I want to be with could make me feel - today I find myself wondering if my decision was truly a responsible one or not.
Is this always going to be this hard?
Oh, and force help me when the child is born - how is that going to work? I can't really expect him to move in with me, given what he does, and he certainly can't expect me to follow him like some kind of groupie. Are we going to have a child raised by parents that hardly even see each other? I'd hate to think that he'd be away from his own child, but I really can't say I expect much more than that, really. Not that I blame him, of course.. It's just the reality of our circumstance, I suppose.
The more and more I think about it, the less and less confident I am that I was ever ready for this to begin with. I'm almost thirty and I'm not even sure I'll be ready for this baby five years from now with experience - how in the Corellian hells did my parents do this? How does anyone prepare themselves for a baby on the way?
At least I know the first conversation I'll be having with my kid when they're an adult.
Grown up? Eighteen? Yeah, right.
Or maybe it's the cynic in me, slowly growing. I don't know.
It's just.. ugh.. So frustrating! How can I make this work? Will it work? Should I even try anymore? Is it my fault, his fault, nobody's fault - should I have just given up on everything I wanted to raise a child with a man that I probably would see just as much of if I had as I do now, halfway across the galaxy? So many questions! Maybe a year ago I would have chosen an irresponsible choice and just ran away again and holed myself up in some glorious mansion that made me feel even more alone than I ever possibly could have imagined being with the person I want to be with could make me feel - today I find myself wondering if my decision was truly a responsible one or not.
Is this always going to be this hard?
Oh, and force help me when the child is born - how is that going to work? I can't really expect him to move in with me, given what he does, and he certainly can't expect me to follow him like some kind of groupie. Are we going to have a child raised by parents that hardly even see each other? I'd hate to think that he'd be away from his own child, but I really can't say I expect much more than that, really. Not that I blame him, of course.. It's just the reality of our circumstance, I suppose.
The more and more I think about it, the less and less confident I am that I was ever ready for this to begin with. I'm almost thirty and I'm not even sure I'll be ready for this baby five years from now with experience - how in the Corellian hells did my parents do this? How does anyone prepare themselves for a baby on the way?
At least I know the first conversation I'll be having with my kid when they're an adult.
Grown up? Eighteen? Yeah, right.
