Saturday, September 09, 2006


Well J and I are done. Dead, laid in the ground, he never wants to speak to me again done. I forced him into talking to me on Tuesday, I wanted some closure and instead got more pain. (Yes Deus you were right). I don't know if he was lashing out because he was angry that I would even THINK that he said to my family about the baby not being his, or that I asked him about it. He says that he said that the actual words were "I'm pretty sure it's mine but you never know." Pardon me. As far as I am concerned that is STILL a betrayl. I mean really, how could he even entertain any POSSIBILITY of me cheating. In the end he didn't know me at all. He said a lot of even nastier things, that cut to the quick. I won't repeat them here, but I was more wounded then I let him know. I didn't cry or yell or beg. I just wanted to talk, and to get some sort of dignity at the end. I am still devestated by the 1st. I was so far on the road to recovery, and it all got wiped away with a single phone call.
The worst things is, I keep waiting for him to call again. Last night, Friday night, was the night he always called. 9pm. And last night I sat holding the phone, until 11pm, and I started to cry knowing I would never again see his name showing on that screen. How is it that a man can call me names and say that I would have been a terrible mother and that he would have taken the baby away and I still want to be with him? I still want him to hold me and talk to me and love me? My shrink says my ability to forgive is hurting me now, and I can't help but agree with him.
But I know too, I am not ready to move on. I am not ready to strike out into the world. Maybe it's self pity, but I want to hold on to this hurt and this love we had for so long.
Today, at the funeral of Allanna (my next door neighbours sisters stillborn child) I sobbed, not for their loss, but for mine. For the child I terminated and the man I lost. And for the fact, that in the end, he really didn't care.


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