As I get older, I feel more inferior.

My self-esteem plummets.

I feel as though I'm stupid. Or at least not as smart as the person next to me... at most times.

I feel as though my value as a human being declines.

As though if I wasn't here, nobody would miss me. Again, as though I have no value.

I'm not important in the big picture. I have yet to find my reason for being. I'm not a spectacular person. I believe I USED to be. But no more.

I find myself boring. Sometimes even, a waste of skin. A waste of breath. A waste of attention.

You'd think I'd have learned something potent, with the two failed pregnancies and, most recently, the major car accident.

But no, I haven't seen the reason for it all.

Yet.

Perhaps I will. Perhaps the lesson I was to learn will unveil itself.

Or not.

I sometimes feel as though I'm a minor hiccup in The Husband's life. Or a major hiccup, depending on the day.

For the most part, I feel as though I fucked up his life.

By just being.

I feel as though he really wanted to get married. And I just happened to be the gal that was in his life at the time. I don't necessarily believe that I'm the person he really wanted to marry. Not that there was anyone else, but I was the one that was there. I know that he wouldn't have chosen me in a million years. He would never had hunted me down and declared his undying love and begged me to marry him. He would have chosen someone more safe. Someone more like him.

Someone chinese.

But he got me. HE asked me. And I said yes.

Because I'm head over heels in love with him.

He's not the one I would have ever pictured myself with either. First of all, I never thought I'd GET married. I didn't want to get married.

And then he came into my life.

And I fell in love.

Head over heels.

In love with this man.

And yet I feel so small in our marriage. In our relationship. As a wife. As a twice-failed mother-to-be.

As a person.

As a human being.

I peed on the stick last night. Wondering.

Wondering if we happened to get pregnant between my fucked up periods since the procedure.

It was negative.

And I'm glad.

I'm getting older. I'm getting to the point where it may become difficult to get pregnant. We're aging. We want a baby, almost desperately.

Almost.

Yet I'm grateful that it came back negative.

I realize that we have alot of work to do, for US, before we can bring a child, or two, into this relationship. Into our marriage. Into our life.

I've got to learn that I do have value.

That I'm not stupid.

Get my self-esteem back (I used to be Fabulous).

I've got to stop feeling so damned inferior.

To him.

Urs.