Meeting Of Inconvenience

Around an hour later, I start to feel like actual shit, but not as much as I would feel without the pill I took.

I instantly get mad at life because why is it always the same fucking thing? Every damn month.

What did I do to deserve this pain? I’m a good person. I do good things. I only started being hateful when I met my husband, not before.

I really can’t wait to get pregnant and spend nine glorious months without having a period. God, I can almost taste how good that’s going to be. Maybe I’ll get swollen and uncomfortable, but I know it’s going to be better than dealing with cramps once a month.

My stomach is grumbling with hunger but I’m at the point where, if I eat something, I’ll probably throw it up anyway. So there’s no point in consuming anything.

I don’t even have the energy to use my phone to distract myself, I only turn on the TV to have some background noise and I spend hours and hours dealing with the pain. And then the fever and the nausea.

I have to throw myself