The Fruit of my Womb

Once I met a boy, who told me he was sincere with each word he spoke. Each time I was near him, I felt a pull. I wanted to be in his embrace from the moment I saw him, long before I met him. How could I have known he was just as confused as I was? I know that I am too much of a kind person for him, despite of how wicked of a person I am. I have too much love for someone, I've given too much to someone I am not with. Yet I am called the whore.

No, you do not understand. I know what kind of creature he is. Still it makes me like him more. From the moment I met him, and we danced with our words, I felt that we were testing what exactly it was that we could do and what we could be. It was a trial and error we both understood we were giving each other. He made me happy for all nine weeks I let him be intimate with me. No, not physical, six of those weeks were purely mental and emotional. Now, maybe I am too sensitive. We've started a new dance. Each time I try to pull away, or attempt to disconnect myself, he does something amazing that pulls me back. We hold hands in this dance, I step out, and he rolls me back into his chest with his arm around my waist. What a beautiful twirl it is.

I know I can never love you, love you freely. You are the epitome of who I wished Liam to be. You showed me who you were, yet I glued myself amongst the others on your back burner. I have no proof that there are others, but they would have no proof that I am an other. Oh, Liam, you came to me at the wrong time. Liam, you could have been the last exception, the only exception to my dastardly ways. You were the exception during five of those nine weeks, because those five weeks were when I told myself I was only yours.

Liam, what a funny name. Sounds like a lamb wet with lime juice. I hope my son, that when I have you, you will not act like a Lamb, but something in between the lion and the lamb. I hope you have the smart and wit that he who almost took your name does. I hope you can be better, and not become sour over your past. I hope to love you and show you there is love that exists in other places, complete, faithful love. Here I am, the hypocrite of this disease. Liam, I won't let you lay to rest, not in my mind.