Addressing an upset I sought out earlier which brought me pain that I don't really want to discuss but need to at least say this: an entire year after, and his happiness still causes me enough pain that my only consolation is imagining the many ways he could die tomorrow.
Moving on.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the purpose of having children.
Why the hell do we have children?!
Like, okay. You want to try your hand at parenting. But now you've brought another human into the world that will experience horrific pain and sadness. To have kids for your own happiness is nothing less than extremely selfish. Children don't exist for you. As soon as they can think on their own they will be their own person, with their own goals and wants and needs, and if you had it to take care of you when you're old or to carry on the family name or so you could finally have a scientist in the family.....well...none of that is your choice any more. They are autonomous.
So I've concluded that the only way I could justify having children is if it happened by accident. And then I would do my best to bring them up as an apology for ever having to be here in the first place.
Dear god. There has to be another reason? I have been dwelling on this for a few days. I can't think of one.
