I have been working on the post about my sons visit with his biological father, but I keep coming to a stand still. I am living, breathing, and dreaming of Veronica Brown. She has consumed my life for the past few months. So since that is all I can think of, I think I should lend my voice to the countless others in Standing My Ground and doing my best to speak for this child that doesn't have a voice of her own. So here it goes.
Veronica Brown was conceived by two people in love. Two people engaged to be married. Dusten Brown and Christy Maldonado. For whatever reason she chose, Christy broke off the engagement even as Dusten was trying to push up the wedding. Later Christy cut off all contact with Dusten, and he hoped that by giving her some space, she would come around and come back to him. And then they could raise their daughter together. You know, the whole "happily ever after" thing. But that was not to be.
Christy purposely withheld from Dusten that she planned to place their child for adoption. And she gave false information to the adoption agency that she used and to the prospective adoptive parents that she chose for this little girl. This little girl that had a daddy that wanted her. Wanted to marry her mom, and raise her.
Matt and Melanie Capobianco, the prospective adoptive parents, couldn't wait to add to their family. I know almost everyone wants to have a baby. And I am sure that they were thrilled that they had been chosen, finally, by an expectant mom, to raise a baby. I have no doubt that they loved her the moment she was born. I have no doubt that they were greatly blessed to have been in the delivery room. For Matt to cut the umbilical cord. For them to welcome their baby into this world. To start the bonding experience at birth. (For the record, I am 100% against pre-birth matching, but I am trying to look at this from the outside and take into account all the truths.)
When Veronica was 4 months old the Capobianco's found out that Dusten did not want to sign his rights over. He wanted to raise his daughter. They fought this for the next 23 months, and finally a judge gave Veronica back to Dusten at the age of 27 months. On New Years Eve 2011. What a way to bring in the New Year by bringing your daughter home. I imagine the entire family was ecstatic.
But the fight continued over the next 19 months, and by using loopholes in law and using money, the Capobianco's somehow got a court to finalize the adoption of a girl living with her father, and demanded her immediate return to genetic strangers.
You can fact check here http://keepveronicahome.com/index.php/fact-check and you can read the timeline here http://www.nicwa.org/BabyVeronica/documents/Timeline_Feb_000.pdf
Now for my thoughts and opinions.
I don't see how anyone can fight to take a child away from her father. A fit, loving father that is caring for her needs. Where she is happy, healthy, loved and wanted. This is where my sympathy for the Capobianco's end. And where their love for Veronica turns into a desire to win. A desire to get what they paid for. They spent all their money, and some they borrowed and begged for, to purchase a child. Sure some call it birth mother expenses, but whatever. I call it buying a child. If the agency had called Matt and Melanie up and said, "Hey, we have this woman that really wants to keep her child, but she can't afford to. Could you please help her make her car payments, and rent payment, and maybe take her out to eat, since she doesn't even have the money for food." Do you think they would have raised all that money to give to Christy so she could keep Veronica? Yeah, me either. That in my opinion means they bought a child.
Fast forward 4 months, (we will pretend that they didn't know the child was Cherokee) to when they found out that several lies had been told, several laws had been broken, and this father wanted his child. Why fight that? Because you paid $XXXX to get her home in the first place? Anyway the fight ensues. Throughout the fight Dusten uses the Indian Child Welfare Act, to show that he should have Veronica, and he finally wins. After 23 months of fighting he brings his daughter home. Fight over? No.....
The Capobianco's continue the fight by saying that the Indian Child Welfare Act doesn't apply to this case, And they win! Ridiculous!!!
Now, I am going to move away from the Indian Child Welfare Act (it is a very important act, but doesn't play into my opinion of this case at all) and all the other laws used to fight this battle. And I am going to go into some questions. Feel free not to answer, or feel free to answer. Your call. But please, at least look into your heart and answer them for yourself.
1. Why do we need all these laws to fight for our children? Shouldn't the fact that we created them be enough of an argument? Shouldn't that trump any other argument or law out there?
2. Why does the law make it so easy to circumvent a fathers rights to his child? If the mother wants to give the child up for adoption, that's fine and dandy. If she wants to keep a child and force the father to pay child support that's fine and dandy, too. But when does the dad get a say? I personally don't think any child should be able to be placed for adoption until paternity is proven through DNA testing, and the father signs off on it. If she doesn't want the child, but he does, shouldn't she give him the child and pay child support?
3. Now at the age of 4, and only knowing that she lives with her Daddy and Mommy, and they love her, how come Veronica can't get a best interest hearing? If the Capobianco's think it is in Veronica's best interest for her to come home with them, why are they not saying, "Yes, do a best interest hearing, and we will follow along with what it says."?
4. Last question.... Do you have small children? Do you remember when your grown children were young? Look at your child, pictures of your child, memories of your child. Whichever is easier for you. Now imagine that I want your child. The child you love. The child you created. The child that is happy in your home. The child that is cared for, healthy, and thriving..... Now can you give me that child? I would love him/her just as much, I swear. I would do everything I could to make sure that child is happy in my home, and you can visit and call anytime. If you said no, then please go to https://www.facebook.com/StandingOurGroundForVeronicaBrown and share your support for this little girl to stay with her father. And if you said yes, then maybe you should give your child to the Capobianco's. They really want one.
Friday, August 23, 2013
Monday, May 13, 2013
Apparently I'm a Little Slow
You would think that some things are quite obvious when it comes to life, but I am living proof that it isn't. I just recently realized another way that adoption has touched my life, and in this way I truly was the bad guy. :(
You all have probably figured it out already. If you have read my blog from the beginning. And you will probably be surprised that it just recently hit me!!!
In this post http://myfightformotherhood.blogspot.com/2012/05/new-beginning.html I talked about finding out I was pregnant with J2, and my new beginning with motherhood. But if you read between the lines, I also admit there that I left his biological father, and went back to my husband. The man that is on J2's birth certificate, and has raised him, is not his father. And although there was never an adoption, just a simple signing of the birth certificate, I for all intents and purposes, forced adoption on my sweet new baby boy.
J2 did not know until he was 4 that there was another daddy out there. I will never forget the conversation. And I will never forget the tears. I also will never forgive myself for waiting until he was 4 to tell him. If he had always known, maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much.
And in this post http://myfightformotherhood.blogspot.com/2012/09/i-dont-understand.html I talked about how wrong it was for mothers to take the choice of parenthood away from fathers. Granted it is a little different, since I kept and raised my son. I didn't place him with others. But in essence I did the same thing. I made sure that the father didn't have a choice in another man being on the birth certificate. I did so without asking the father. Now I could say I got lucky, in the fact that the father didn't want to raise him unless we were together. I could say that it's different, because he doesn't mind that someone else is on the birth certificate. Which is all true, and does make it a little bit different. But not enough to make what I did okay.
Now that I have admitted that, I will tell you what recently happened. J2 has been asking for about 2 years to meet his father. But since he lives several states away, it has been pretty much impossible. But he called me a few weeks ago and told me that he would be in town, and if J2 still wanted to see him, we could do it then.
I told J2 that he was coming and he would be able to see him, and he started crying. I told him, "If you don't want to see him, you don't have to." He replied, "No, I do want to see him. I'm sad because he has to go back to Texas." That's when it hit me. I did this to my baby. That's when I started looking at it from an adoption angle.
I have to go for now. But I will be back soon, and I will tell you all about the visit. It happened on May 3rd. And it was a good visit. I just don't have time now to do it justice in the telling.
You all have probably figured it out already. If you have read my blog from the beginning. And you will probably be surprised that it just recently hit me!!!
In this post http://myfightformotherhood.blogspot.com/2012/05/new-beginning.html I talked about finding out I was pregnant with J2, and my new beginning with motherhood. But if you read between the lines, I also admit there that I left his biological father, and went back to my husband. The man that is on J2's birth certificate, and has raised him, is not his father. And although there was never an adoption, just a simple signing of the birth certificate, I for all intents and purposes, forced adoption on my sweet new baby boy.
J2 did not know until he was 4 that there was another daddy out there. I will never forget the conversation. And I will never forget the tears. I also will never forgive myself for waiting until he was 4 to tell him. If he had always known, maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much.
And in this post http://myfightformotherhood.blogspot.com/2012/09/i-dont-understand.html I talked about how wrong it was for mothers to take the choice of parenthood away from fathers. Granted it is a little different, since I kept and raised my son. I didn't place him with others. But in essence I did the same thing. I made sure that the father didn't have a choice in another man being on the birth certificate. I did so without asking the father. Now I could say I got lucky, in the fact that the father didn't want to raise him unless we were together. I could say that it's different, because he doesn't mind that someone else is on the birth certificate. Which is all true, and does make it a little bit different. But not enough to make what I did okay.
Now that I have admitted that, I will tell you what recently happened. J2 has been asking for about 2 years to meet his father. But since he lives several states away, it has been pretty much impossible. But he called me a few weeks ago and told me that he would be in town, and if J2 still wanted to see him, we could do it then.
I told J2 that he was coming and he would be able to see him, and he started crying. I told him, "If you don't want to see him, you don't have to." He replied, "No, I do want to see him. I'm sad because he has to go back to Texas." That's when it hit me. I did this to my baby. That's when I started looking at it from an adoption angle.
I have to go for now. But I will be back soon, and I will tell you all about the visit. It happened on May 3rd. And it was a good visit. I just don't have time now to do it justice in the telling.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Changes
There have been quite a few changes going on in my house. And even more going on in my mind. I have been stuck about what to write, as I feel like an imposter. Now I realize what changes need to be made. And they will be hard changes. But it's something I have to do.
First I need to stop limiting my fight for motherhood to only the adoptions of my two oldest sons. I have a daily fight for my motherhood with the 2 children that I am raising too. So now I think I need to talk about those things a little bit.
My biggest fight is for my youngest son, J2. He was diagnosed at 6 years old with ODD (Oppositional Defiant Disorder) and a mood disorder not otherwise specified. When I asked what that meant I was told, "That means we don't know what's wrong with him." Very comforting.... NOT.
I have fought for my right to parent my child the best way I know how. I have fought schools, counselors, hospitals, and DFCS. I have to be his biggest advocate. No one else is going to do it. And no one knows my son like I do. So I fight this battle with honor.
Now the hard part. I know my son, very well. But I am just now learning some things about myself. Like I am learning that I have been doing some things wrong. And I'm figuring out how to fix those things. I have done a lot of reading on ODD. And I have learned a lot of new things. No thanks to his therapist (that I am changing by the way). I learned that the irrational fears that come on all of a sudden are REAL. My son was never afraid of the dark, never afraid of being alone in a room. Never afraid of danger. Now he is. My son is terrified to sleep by himself. So now after years of sleeping alone, I have to sit on the side of my sons bed until he goes to sleep. But it gives him comfort, and it gives him security. So I will do this, as long as I have to. I will now fight my husband, on how J2 should be treated. I don't know where this is going to lead me, but it will lead me into a better, happier motherhood. After all, isn't that what this is all about?
I will be back soon to write more on this. But now, since I have stayed up another hour just to make sure he is sound asleep, I am going to go back to bed. :)
First I need to stop limiting my fight for motherhood to only the adoptions of my two oldest sons. I have a daily fight for my motherhood with the 2 children that I am raising too. So now I think I need to talk about those things a little bit.
My biggest fight is for my youngest son, J2. He was diagnosed at 6 years old with ODD (Oppositional Defiant Disorder) and a mood disorder not otherwise specified. When I asked what that meant I was told, "That means we don't know what's wrong with him." Very comforting.... NOT.
I have fought for my right to parent my child the best way I know how. I have fought schools, counselors, hospitals, and DFCS. I have to be his biggest advocate. No one else is going to do it. And no one knows my son like I do. So I fight this battle with honor.
Now the hard part. I know my son, very well. But I am just now learning some things about myself. Like I am learning that I have been doing some things wrong. And I'm figuring out how to fix those things. I have done a lot of reading on ODD. And I have learned a lot of new things. No thanks to his therapist (that I am changing by the way). I learned that the irrational fears that come on all of a sudden are REAL. My son was never afraid of the dark, never afraid of being alone in a room. Never afraid of danger. Now he is. My son is terrified to sleep by himself. So now after years of sleeping alone, I have to sit on the side of my sons bed until he goes to sleep. But it gives him comfort, and it gives him security. So I will do this, as long as I have to. I will now fight my husband, on how J2 should be treated. I don't know where this is going to lead me, but it will lead me into a better, happier motherhood. After all, isn't that what this is all about?
I will be back soon to write more on this. But now, since I have stayed up another hour just to make sure he is sound asleep, I am going to go back to bed. :)
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
How Blind People Can Be
I work in a restaurant. I think I have mentioned this before. I think I have also mentioned that C lived across the street from this restaurant his entire adopted life until a few months ago. This ties into what I am trying to say.
I work for a wonderful man. He is fair and he is just, in his dealings with us workwise and on a personal level. I have talked to him a lot. He was raised in foster care and group homes, and refused to be adopted when the chance arose. I also work with a sweet girl that was adopted as a toddler, and is in search of one of her brothers. She has found the other one, and does get updates on him from his social worker. She can even go see him once a year when she takes vacation, and travels to that state. I also work with 2 women that can't have kids for medical reasons that they have not disclosed. These 2 women plan to adopt one day. I have tried to talk them out of it, to no avail.
They have watched C outside skateboarding. He would look at his house to make sure no one was watching so he could wave at me. They have watched him sneak to see me when he got off the bus before his adoptive parents got home. They have seen the tearful goodbyes, not knowing when we would be able to see each other again. They have talked to us. They have listened to us. They have asked questions.
They have watched my sweet almost 2 year old A, look out the window across the street and say, "Mama, where Bubba?" Because he isn't out there any more. He has moved. They have watched the tears come every time she asks. Not just tearing up, a full fledged, can't stop it, waterfall.
They have heard my 8 year old J2 express his hatred for these people that are keeping him away from his brother. They have heard it all.
So you would think.... Wouldn't watching that for 3 years, hearing about it for 3 years, stop you from wanting to be a part of that? Apparently not. When it comes to a woman that can't have a child, wanting one... They turn blind. I can only hope that they have learned enough to have fully open adoptions if and when they proceed.
I work for a wonderful man. He is fair and he is just, in his dealings with us workwise and on a personal level. I have talked to him a lot. He was raised in foster care and group homes, and refused to be adopted when the chance arose. I also work with a sweet girl that was adopted as a toddler, and is in search of one of her brothers. She has found the other one, and does get updates on him from his social worker. She can even go see him once a year when she takes vacation, and travels to that state. I also work with 2 women that can't have kids for medical reasons that they have not disclosed. These 2 women plan to adopt one day. I have tried to talk them out of it, to no avail.
They have watched C outside skateboarding. He would look at his house to make sure no one was watching so he could wave at me. They have watched him sneak to see me when he got off the bus before his adoptive parents got home. They have seen the tearful goodbyes, not knowing when we would be able to see each other again. They have talked to us. They have listened to us. They have asked questions.
They have watched my sweet almost 2 year old A, look out the window across the street and say, "Mama, where Bubba?" Because he isn't out there any more. He has moved. They have watched the tears come every time she asks. Not just tearing up, a full fledged, can't stop it, waterfall.
They have heard my 8 year old J2 express his hatred for these people that are keeping him away from his brother. They have heard it all.
So you would think.... Wouldn't watching that for 3 years, hearing about it for 3 years, stop you from wanting to be a part of that? Apparently not. When it comes to a woman that can't have a child, wanting one... They turn blind. I can only hope that they have learned enough to have fully open adoptions if and when they proceed.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Not hiding anymore
I have had a lot going on with C. I was supposed to be able to see him now that someone else has custody. But once again, I am the big bad birthmother that will never be any good. I'm not worthy enough to see my son since I "gave up on him." I am not allowed to contact him. He has agreed, according to her, to never speak my name again. So until he is 18, I have to wait to try to speak to him. Until then, I have started a new blog to write him letters. Hopefully he will see them one day.
This is what I don't understand. This lady that has him now says I can't see him because he is in so much pain because I have given up on him sooo many times. And he was asking "why?" So she thinks it's better if he doesn't see me. Isn't that counter productive. No one can answer that question but me. I never "gave up on him" in the sense that everyone is using it. But not one of these people who claim to love him so much want him to get the answer to that question. Why? How is he supposed to process this and heal as much as he can when he has a question, and no answer? Could you? I know I couldn't. One day he will be able to ask me. And one day there will be no legal way anyone can stop me from answering. I pray that when that day comes he will find forgiveness in his heart for the weak, scared teenager that I was. The girl that didn't know how to fight. But whether he forgives me or not, I pray he finds some peace from the hurt that has haunted him his entire life.
This is what I don't understand. This lady that has him now says I can't see him because he is in so much pain because I have given up on him sooo many times. And he was asking "why?" So she thinks it's better if he doesn't see me. Isn't that counter productive. No one can answer that question but me. I never "gave up on him" in the sense that everyone is using it. But not one of these people who claim to love him so much want him to get the answer to that question. Why? How is he supposed to process this and heal as much as he can when he has a question, and no answer? Could you? I know I couldn't. One day he will be able to ask me. And one day there will be no legal way anyone can stop me from answering. I pray that when that day comes he will find forgiveness in his heart for the weak, scared teenager that I was. The girl that didn't know how to fight. But whether he forgives me or not, I pray he finds some peace from the hurt that has haunted him his entire life.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Maybe One Day....
Maybe one day I will be logical. Maybe one day I will have faith in myself. Maybe one day I will realize that I deserve to be happy, and then maybe THAT day, I will be.
I am sitting here in my living room, with A taking a nap in my room. J1 and J2 sitting side by side on the couch watching Madagascar 3. I realize that C is the only one missing today. I do know now that he is okay. I can't say anything more about that right now, but one day I will have the whole story to share. But I am sitting here thinking, "This is how it's supposed to be." My husband is at work and my 2 middle kids are sitting here being brothers, like it should have always been. In this moment, (besides missing C) I am a happy Mama.
It is also nice knowing that I don't have to spend the whole time he is here talking to him. I know he will always be here. I don't have a crazy AMom just looking for a reason to take him away from me. His mom is truly a wonderful woman. And though I don't have to spend the whole time "spending time" with him, I think I'm going to go now, and just look at my sons being brothers in my living room. :) It is still a wonder. I'll be back another day.
I am sitting here in my living room, with A taking a nap in my room. J1 and J2 sitting side by side on the couch watching Madagascar 3. I realize that C is the only one missing today. I do know now that he is okay. I can't say anything more about that right now, but one day I will have the whole story to share. But I am sitting here thinking, "This is how it's supposed to be." My husband is at work and my 2 middle kids are sitting here being brothers, like it should have always been. In this moment, (besides missing C) I am a happy Mama.
It is also nice knowing that I don't have to spend the whole time he is here talking to him. I know he will always be here. I don't have a crazy AMom just looking for a reason to take him away from me. His mom is truly a wonderful woman. And though I don't have to spend the whole time "spending time" with him, I think I'm going to go now, and just look at my sons being brothers in my living room. :) It is still a wonder. I'll be back another day.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Happy 17th Birthday C
Well, today is C's 17th birthday. So much has changed in the last month or so. At one point he was coming to live with me. Then he was going to live with his girlfriend. Now I am pretty sure he isn't wanting to talk to me at all. Even though I held back and never told him how I felt about him moving in with the girlfriend. All I can figure is he needs his space. And I can understand that. I will give him all the time he needs, and make sure he knows that I will always be here. If he ever wants me again. But I find it fitting today to tell the story of my first born son.
I was 17 when I found out I was pregnant. I had been trying to get pregnant for a while. I came from an abusive home, where we weren't really loved. And in the mind of a know it all teenager, I thought the way to fix that was to have a baby. That would be someone who would love me unconditionally. I know, I know... Illogical thought processes. Haha
Anyway, I was still living in my dad's house, and went to the health department and they told me I was pregnant. I immediately sat in the floor and cried like a baby. How was I going to take care of a baby?!?! Yeah, I probably should have thought of that first. Also, why would I bring a baby into a family that I didn't even want to be in? So I did the next (il)logical thing that came to mind... I took off. I moved over an hour away with a man that had shown interest in me when I was 15. Sick I know. I should have had better sense. But I want to tell this story honestly, so here it is. I knew he was a man with a job. I knew he was interested in me. I knew he had custody of his daughter. So I figured he would do.
I got huge with C. I was 116 pounds when I got pregnant and over 200 when I had him. (I don't know the exact weight. I quit looking at 199 when I was almost 8 months.) I remember watching the World Series that year. I was hoping that my son would want to play baseball. I loved to play as a kid. On November 1st I was already 3 days overdue, and the Braves won the World Series. I was so excited that I was jumping up and down on the couch at my Uncles house. He told me to stop because he was not going to have me giving birth in his living room.
3 days later, I was still not in labor. So 2 of my Aunts decided to walk the baby out of me. At first they had me walking up and down the stairs of the condos that one of them lived in. They could hear me when I stopped and would push me on. Finally I told them that I couldn't climb the stairs any more. They took me to WalMart, and they sat in the little dining area as I walked back and forth. I was so tired, and I still wasn't in labor. So I kept an eye on my watch and started faking contractions. Sad, I know, but I just wanted to lay down, and this was a sure fire way to end up in a hospital bed. :)
We get to the hospital late at night on November 4th. They hook me up to all these monitors and inform me that I am having contractions every minute. I still don't feel anything though. I got to rest that night, and the next day the nurses had me walking the halls. After hours of trying to get me to dilate, and breaking my water, I am not progressing. I was dilated to a 3, contractions every minute, and nothing. They gave me an epidural the evening of the 5th. They also had me sign a consent for a c-section. They told me that if I did not progress through the night, they would do the surgery in the morning.
I still didn't progress. The next morning I went in for surgery with my Aunt by my side. I was terrified. I did not want to have a baby this way. A few minutes later, I heard the sweetest sound. The cry of my first born child. My sweet C. My Pooh Bear. I couldn't stop crying. Already, he was my world. Happy Birthday C. You will always be my baby!
I just realized the irony of this. I wanted C so I could have the one person that would love me unconditionally. And I think I may have messed that up, too. Maybe I'm not meant to be loved? Sad, yes, but sometimes I really feel that way.
I was 17 when I found out I was pregnant. I had been trying to get pregnant for a while. I came from an abusive home, where we weren't really loved. And in the mind of a know it all teenager, I thought the way to fix that was to have a baby. That would be someone who would love me unconditionally. I know, I know... Illogical thought processes. Haha
Anyway, I was still living in my dad's house, and went to the health department and they told me I was pregnant. I immediately sat in the floor and cried like a baby. How was I going to take care of a baby?!?! Yeah, I probably should have thought of that first. Also, why would I bring a baby into a family that I didn't even want to be in? So I did the next (il)logical thing that came to mind... I took off. I moved over an hour away with a man that had shown interest in me when I was 15. Sick I know. I should have had better sense. But I want to tell this story honestly, so here it is. I knew he was a man with a job. I knew he was interested in me. I knew he had custody of his daughter. So I figured he would do.
I got huge with C. I was 116 pounds when I got pregnant and over 200 when I had him. (I don't know the exact weight. I quit looking at 199 when I was almost 8 months.) I remember watching the World Series that year. I was hoping that my son would want to play baseball. I loved to play as a kid. On November 1st I was already 3 days overdue, and the Braves won the World Series. I was so excited that I was jumping up and down on the couch at my Uncles house. He told me to stop because he was not going to have me giving birth in his living room.
3 days later, I was still not in labor. So 2 of my Aunts decided to walk the baby out of me. At first they had me walking up and down the stairs of the condos that one of them lived in. They could hear me when I stopped and would push me on. Finally I told them that I couldn't climb the stairs any more. They took me to WalMart, and they sat in the little dining area as I walked back and forth. I was so tired, and I still wasn't in labor. So I kept an eye on my watch and started faking contractions. Sad, I know, but I just wanted to lay down, and this was a sure fire way to end up in a hospital bed. :)
We get to the hospital late at night on November 4th. They hook me up to all these monitors and inform me that I am having contractions every minute. I still don't feel anything though. I got to rest that night, and the next day the nurses had me walking the halls. After hours of trying to get me to dilate, and breaking my water, I am not progressing. I was dilated to a 3, contractions every minute, and nothing. They gave me an epidural the evening of the 5th. They also had me sign a consent for a c-section. They told me that if I did not progress through the night, they would do the surgery in the morning.
I still didn't progress. The next morning I went in for surgery with my Aunt by my side. I was terrified. I did not want to have a baby this way. A few minutes later, I heard the sweetest sound. The cry of my first born child. My sweet C. My Pooh Bear. I couldn't stop crying. Already, he was my world. Happy Birthday C. You will always be my baby!
I just realized the irony of this. I wanted C so I could have the one person that would love me unconditionally. And I think I may have messed that up, too. Maybe I'm not meant to be loved? Sad, yes, but sometimes I really feel that way.
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