In A Perfect World….
My husband, my two boys and I would be living happily ever after.
I wouldn’t have gotten Crohn’s Disease.
I wouldn’t have gotten Celiac disease.
I wouldn’t have gotten PSC.
I wouldn’t have been picked on as a kid because I was sick and too embarrassed to explain why I looked the way I did.
My mother wouldn’t have left when I was 14 only to return when I got pregnant to scold and all around be unsupportive.
I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant my junior year of high school.
My mother’s relationship with me wouldn’t be shitty even though I’ve tried repeatedly to fix it.
I wouldn’t have gotten cancer.
I wouldn’t have had my colon removed to get rid of the cancer, which ultimately has extinguished my hopes of traveling.
I wouldn’t have made so many mistakes and ruined so many relationships.
I wouldn’t have lost my nephew to negligence by his mother.
I would have my dream job of being a makeup artist, a lyricist/writer, or a chef.
I would be the world’s best wife and mother.
I would be loved unconditionally.
In a perfect world, I would be happy. After all, isn’t that what everyone wants in this life? I try not to take things for granted and to make sure the people I care about most know how much I love them. However, this is not a perfect world, nor will it ever be. I’ve been dealt a shittier hand than most and I struggle constantly with having the strength to overcome it all.
I want to give my husband the wife he deserves and my boys the mother that they deserve. That is ultimately the gift I cherish most for them. I unfortunately fail at it more often than not, which only adds to my despair. I want nothing but the best for my loved ones and I have a difficult time providing this for them. I think about how better my life could have been had I not struggled with so many things for so long. I think about how I could’ve been a better person and how much better my family’s life could have been. Every day I pray for strength to get through and be the person my family deserves.
These thoughts don’t improve my situation but I can’t help but to have them. I am almost 30 years old and have very little to show for my time on earth. This bothers me. I feel that my time is growing shorter and I cry that my husband and boys will never know how much they really do mean to me, how much I cherish them and try so hard to be what they deserve.
I would give anything to have them tell me that they are better for having had me in their lives before I’m gone. I could then accept that my life was not a waste and move on knowing that my goal of being loved unconditionally was achieved… in a perfect world…