Talking to God

I've been talking to God lately. Ish. Maybe it's better to say that I talk "at" God. It's a brief conversation usually that goes like this:

"I miss you, God, but I'm still mad at you."

Short and pointed. 

Weird thing is, I figure He understands. 

I figure Mary understands even more. 

I am pissed as Hell. This is not what I signed up for.  I pinned hopes and dreams.  I loved with my whole damn being. Without reservation. Without thought to how much it would hurt. And I would do it AGAIN.  But shit, piss, fuck, damn it HURTS. 

THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT!

I don't want the sympathy. 

I don't want the anger. 

I don't want the pain. 

I don't want tears and panic and anxiety and depression. 

I just want two, COUNT THEM--TWO, precious daughters with me. 

I don't understand--I will never understand--why. I don't want to even try to understand, because I HAVE BEEN CHEATED.