You know how this is a break cycle? You know how I'm relaxing? You know how I'm just letting nature take it's course and not trying to intervene or stress my husband at all?
Sigh. Allow me to show you an unsent letter to an old foe:
My Dearest Pissy,
How did it all go so wrong? We had one of the best first dates of my life. We laughed, we talked, I shared my dreams and fears with you. I was so afraid to trust again, but you supported me! You gave me all the confirmation I needed, just when I'd given up hope. And you were right, dearest Pissy. You told me my Peak Days and rewarded me with a BFP. I thought we would be companions for the rest of my (reproductive) life.
But since then, everything has changed so much. You're so unpredictable. I never know how you're going to react to what I give you. I know many relationships thrive on variety, but they also need stability and security. And Pissy, your two days of High and ten days of High, your ever changing Peak days-- it all became too much. I needed some time away to clear my head. I needed to say goodbye.
But I just can't leave you. Even when I know we're no good for each other, I still can't do it alone. Pissy, the box of pee sticks from my knocked-up internet buddy arrived yesterday, and like a junky just out of a mandatory rehab stint, I was jonesing for my fix. That foil wrapper peeling away between my fingers, the slow creep of blue as the strip absorbed my pee. Pissy, it was good to be back.
Just don't tell my husband.
Your Victim, Your Lover,
Reinvention of a blog
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