Written and edited by Kaitlin Crouthamel
My heart throbs for I am one who is rejected, one who is unwanted. A pleasant surprise or a devious denial. For sure you say you love me, but that of which you speak is a lie.
Today I was looking through pictures of the olden days when my brother and I were babies. Smiles were plastered on ecstatically overjoyed parents’ faces holding their first child -- a baby boy. Alas, I shuffle through more boxes and find mine. No smiles, just grins, no laughter, just sighs. My throbbing heart kills inside. I put the photo boxes away and find my eye spying on a book that had fallen while I was looking through the photos. I open the little white booklet with Photos written in baby-sky blue. Mom and Dad were smiling, from a happy sight of the baby boy. I figured out the boy to be my brother. I glanced around the room, scanning the shelves three times. No more baby booklets. No not one for me, just some pictures placed in a box in a white envelope. While looking through the boxes, I came upon pictures of my dog from my childhood. He was big and strong, courageous and protective. Tears fill up my hazel eyes and streamed down my rosy cheeks.