12 years
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I feel like s*** that I can’t cry over the deaths of loved ones. Never have I cried after someone close to me has passed. The closest ones were my dog, then one of my best friends, and now my beloved cat. And I haven’t cried over any of them. I had forced myself to cry at some times, but it’s not genuine. It’s not grieving, it’s just for the sake of crying.
I’m not one of those people who can’t cry, though. I cry over stupid things like myself, emotional movies, and whatnot.
I know crying isn’t for everyone while grieving, but the fact that I can cry and that I haven’t cried for anyone really bothers me and makes me feel like a scumbag.
I am even worried that I may not have accepted anyone’s death yet. I feel in the back of my mind that I’m not ready to believe it.

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When I was in college my roommate was raped and murdered in a stairwell. I left that school and later completed my degree on line. I lived with my mother.

I had a long time jib working for a cupcake store. One random day a man stopped for a birthday cupcake for his secretary. I asked him if men still had secretaries. He asked if I had an education. Since I had a degree I could be his secretary, the birthday girl was moving.

The company offices had fifty people, mostly male, engineers. The other females were all young, dressed well, fawned over the men. Hired for their looks. I was hired for my looks, 22 blonde.

The man, he wanted a secretary who was affectionate to him. Kiss on the cheek every morning. Wore dresses, a little cleavage. A slap across the a** type of man. He kissed me in his office, felt me up and told me he was coming to my house. I told him I lived with my mother.

He showed up and my mother told me to serve him. He told her he was there for me. He saw me at the cupcake store and decided to marry me.

My mother asked Jim questions, like interviewing him for me. He passed, professional, manager, good job, but how did she know if he could father children. I got married anyways , fingers crossed.

Five years without children. Five years of keeping myself away from him. Five years of this and that girl. He turned 33, I either got pregnant or he would leave me.

Coercion. Blackmail. Forced to comply. It was as awful as I imagined. You only give up your virgin status once. It was awful. What can I say. He repeated it to make sure I got pregnant.

You see, my college roommate was my lover. When I lost her everything ended for me. I married him to please my mother. It’s awful, what can I say. I’m cheating on her memory. This child in me, if I have a girl I will name her after Cristina.