Blessing

I am beyond grateful for the two kids the universe has brought me. I’m 11 weeks pregnant with my second child. The nausea is still killing me, but not as bad as the first time. However I am much less physically active than I used to be. This makes me feel kind of guilty because I’m not present enough with Little Y. He has a lot of energy and wants me to play with him a lot, but my physical discomfort just prevents me from doing that. I hope he’ll understand it one day and forgive me.

Lately I’ve been playing this stupid game designed for teenagers. It has a lot of stupid romantic comedy stories that you can read and choose actions for. Not that I believe in any of those, but those stories do remind me of someone.

I only had one puppy love as a teenager. We have never met in person. If you go back to one of the entries in my archive, you can read all the stories we had. Honestly I don’t even remember where in the archive I can locate Jesus. Jesus was poor, didn’t go to college, probably didn’t finish high school either. We would read each other’s blog and we started chatting. He has always been a laborer, doing all sorts of labor intensive jobs, including living on ships for months, for the good money. Even though he’s a tough guy, every time when we talked on the phone, he was always soft. Soft not as in saying meaningless things like “aww I’m sorry” or “aww that’s too bad”; it’s more like he could feel and relate to my pain and he would fake tough to hide his emotions. But I could always feel that he really felt me, no matter how sarcastic he was. Unfortunately he never admitted he loved me back then until I was 26, the last time we talked to each other and when he was about to get married. I was taking to him lying in my bed in my lonely apartment in the City of Power, and I cried as soon as I heard those words.

But there’s nothing any human can do about it. It all boils down to fate. He was so poor that he could never afford a visit to me in the City of Rain, and yet he was too proud and protective of me to let me go visit him in the City of Farmlands. All he could tell me was that our relationship was too fucked up and it was never right if we never felt each other physically. In our last phone call, he admitted that  it hurt him so much that we were so far away from each other so he had to push me away. He also said that he tried to look up my email and everything when his last relationship ended but failed. Well, his fate brought him his wife and my fate took me to Ken. What was the most ironic was that when I was living in the City of Power, he was working on a farm that was only 80 miles away from me. We never had a chance to meet up. And our fates forbade us to meet up—I was pursuing wealth, social status and power in the City of Power and he was only a farmhand. My life was all about empty diplomatic vocabulary while his was all about his muscles. He’s not stupid though; in fact, we used to discuss vocabulary, psychology and philosophy all the time.

I would never trade my kids for anything or anyone in the world. My kids are my world now, no matter how difficult life is. I would do whatever it takes to keep my kids safe, strong and healthy. It’s just that a part of me wonders, “would my life involve less yelling if he was the father of my kids?” At least he could drive, carry heavy things, fix things in the house, navigate through all sorts of physical barriers and all that time he spent doing isolated labor intensive jobs was to help him save enough so that he could be a stay-at-home dad one day. Angel has much more money than Jesus, and he always wants to retire early so that he can homeschool our kids. But Angel can’t drive, can’t use a screwdriver, can’t carry heavy things because of his spine. Every time when I talked about driving an RV and going camping with my kids, he actually wanted me to do the driving. In my dream, that’s a father’s job and I can’t drive an RV anyway. I don’t drive well in general I think.

I’m not trying to fight my fate. Everything is arranged for the best, whether I like it or not. If I could talk to Jesus again, which I’m sure I’d never because we have absolutely lost contact with each other, I’d ask him, “how many kids do you have?” “What is true love?” “Are you a stay-at-home dad now?” “Do you take your kids camping?” “Do you have boys or girls?” “What are you gonna teach them about true love?” “Do you take care of your wife?” “Do you always let her win when she’s pregnant?”

I dated a lot of muscular men, and many of them made me feel that they’d beat me one day; Jesus was the most muscular of all of them, but he made me feel protected and safe, although we never met each other. You can say what we had was totally unreal, but it’s that tiny bit of wishful thinking that makes it beautiful. In reality, nobody really cherishes me since now I became a mom. Angel is physically unable to share my workload at home, and I still work full time, the same job as Angel’s. Life require me to be tough and uncherishable. I can’t fight fate; this is my fate.