One of the things I’ve been keeping to myself is the anxiety that the length of time the divorce has dragged out has made it so that by the time I’m in a position to have a kid with Mike, I won’t be able to do that safely anymore. It’s so sad and bad and big that I just try not to think about it. Sometimes I can’t stop myself from thinking about it. It’s kind of become an intrusive thought.

Recently one of my highschool classmates had a miscarriage. She was so excited to finally be pregnant, but we are both 35, and pregnancy is risky under ideal circumstances. I was reading twitter and a mutual had retweeted a thread about a woman who has just lost her baby under similar circumstances. She admitted she blamed herself because she was 37. I have ‘pregnancy’ blocked on my phone but not on tweet deck. It blindsided me and I got pretty upset.

I went downstairs to get something small to eat because I skipped lunch to get work done. I had been crying. My ex started their usual routine of hugging and fucking with me because they are lonely without realizing I was upset, but eventually they figured it out and asked me what was wrong. I tried to lay it out as like, calmly and non-judgementally as I could thinking maybe its good to communicate it. They freaked out and had a panic response.

The reason things have dragged out as long as they have is that my ex does not want to split up. They are afraid to be alone. I often wonder if they even want specifically me around anymore or it’s just not wanting to be alone. They have used every possible thing to leverage this outcome and still refer to us as ‘lesbians’. It makes me feel like shit. At this point it has been two years since I said I wanted to move on.