"Wit'cho confused body built ass! I hate yo' ass sometimes, I swear!", she angrily yelled.
'Okay, and? The fuck I care for? Bet you be on my dick again tonight though?", he snidely retorted.
She tsked. "Fuck you!", she sneered.
He smirked. 'You al...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Whoever said that marriage was easy was a lie.
Whoever said that love lasted forever was a lie.
Definitely, whoever said that love was enough has never been in love.
My name is Ida and I am a divorcée. I married the love my life when I was twenty-three. We have four children, well, three-and-a half, children together. We were both in love, but love proved to not be enough. No amount of 'I love you's' could rewind that day nor make the ache in my heart fade.
A drunk mind speaks sober thoughts. And actions speak louder than words. But never forget that words leave scars and a trail of tears behind. I found out that the hard way. Now, I am thirty-three and divorced with four shared children with my ex-husband.
"Daddy's, here!", our second youngest, Zamir called.
I let out a sigh tossing aside the cup towel I had been using to wipe my hands. The sound of bare feet slapping against the floors reached my ears before the sound of the door opening a few seconds later. I stood in the doorway of the kitchen with my hands resting on my lower back and baby bump.
I am currently on my last leg of my second trimester. My morning sickness finally calmed but my feet were sore and my ankles were swollen. My hips were also sore from them widening for the birth of the new baby. Nights were long and days were even longer nowadays for me.
I used to have help, someone to relieve me of the stress and strain of parenthood. However, I do not have that anymore since the divorce. Do not get me wrong. Zayn helps me with the kids and even gives me some extra alone time when he has the kids.
It is just that sometimes I have episodes. I get sad and nothing moves me. I get lonely, but I deal with it. I deal with it because this is the life I signed up for when I signed those divorce papers years ago.
My ex-husband still looked the same. He was still roughly handsome. He was dressed in his usual grunge apparel with a beanie adorning his head. He wore that lopsided smile of his upon his face as he approached my pregnant form.
I still got butterflies around this man. My heart began to palpate at the sight of him. My knees grew weak at the sound of his voice uttering my name. I still love him. It is unfortunate too.
Love was not enough. It never truly is. Now I am pregnant once again for the man that broke my heart and ruined me for the next man after him. Yet, somehow he found someone new leaving me in his stead to bare the consequences once again.
