Runaway Ballons

I believe foremost that my perspective is the right perspective. I don't generally lean on anyone else's understanding. You could see how this would pose some problems in my life, however I realize that this position emerges not from a place of arrogance, but from one of fear.

Experiencing rejection from my mother as a young child, which eventually led to her abandoning me at age 17, undergoing desertion from my father at age 13, and then having to aid in his rehabilitation from drug and alcohol addiction as a young adult, being estranged form my brother and younger sister, and recently learning that I was molested as a young child foster mistrust in me. The family bonds, which should have made the world a safe place in my adolescence, are broken, so my view of life is that it is a bad place where people don't have my best interest at heart. As a result, I second guess, criticize, and react both verbally and nonverbally to everything. I am pregnant with pessimism.

Even more telling, just a couple of months into my marriage I asked my husband, "So, how long do you think it will be before we get tired of each other?" This thought was more than just the wonderings of a newlywed estimating when the euphoria would wear off, but rather the epitaph which has been-- without my permission-- etched onto my life's script. In other words, how long before the marriage would disappear like so many other loved ones have before.

I enter into relationships expecting them not to last; expecting that one day they will become runaway balloons disappearing like tiny o's into the sky.