I wish i'd write more, and be more consistent, I wish I wasn't such a willing slave to procrastination, I wish I wish I wish, I could go on forever..
Today i'm overwhelmed with sadness and fear of what the coming year might hold. I feel like my life has been plummeting downhill in the last couple of years and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to catch a break. You see, sometime in 2017, I finally found love and it was the sweetest thing, he was as annoying as they come, but I figured that I could live with his excesses, plus, I come with some baggage too (everyone does), so when he started talking about us getting pregnant and having a baby, I didn't contest it. I supported his fantasy and played my role, even though we were not married and hadn't even discussed the 'M' word. I was in love and the order of events didn't matter to me, I was 101% sure that I wanted all of his tall, dark, chocolatey goodness to myself for a long time and that was enough.
Yessss! I screamed when I saw the two bold lines on the test, I loved the baby already, with every bit of me. My heart was full! I was out of the country at the time, on vacation with my best friend, Puna, and she was super psyched too, especially about the prospects of decorating the baby's room. We started planning.
How could I have known that he didn't mean it when he said he wanted a baby, how stupid was I not to double-check before letting loose and fornicating without protection. Anyone would expect that at my age and with a college degree, I'd make better decisions, alas, I was carrying a baby in my womb for a man who did not want to hear my name, who denied ever suggesting the possibility, who laughed hysterically at the news and called me a desperate whore. A man who told me explicitly to 'Get rid of that thing'.
Then love turned to sadness, anger, hate, spite ... and then, I did just what he asked.
