I hate waiting. The room seemed so small, and quiet. It made the paper crinkling under my butt so loud. I hate doctors.
The man I came with just sat there, staring at his feet. I was so scared, so very uncertain, if I am to be honest. But I held myself together, as I always did. No one else can really ever be there for me.
I wanted him to look at me. I wanted him to say something, to engage me in some way, to let me know I wasn’t alone. But I wouldn’t ask for it. And I suppose I hadn’t actually been alone for the last seven weeks.
The doctor came in. The man in the corner barely looked up during the conversation. My man? Yes, that I chose. I think I chose. The doctor gave me the prescription, and we left.
In the car my man spoke. “I thought they would do it there.” I didn’t respond. It didn’t matter how he thought it would happen. It only mattered that it was happening. It only matter that I chose this. And him.
We filled the prescription and went straight home. This needed to be over now. I needed to put this all behind me, so I could move on. So I could try to put my life back in order. Order. What the hell is order anyway?
He didn’t say anything as I went into the bathroom. I will be alone again. I took the pill, as silent tears burst from my eyes.
This is what I want. It’s too messed up. It’s too stressful. This would be bad for everyone. I’m doing the right thing.
But I still feel so horrible. I still feel myself the monster. I still feel myself a killer.
*************
I was useless today. I will forever be that kind of useless. I’d gained back a shred of humanity, but it was gone, and I guess I never deserved it.
I knew she was married, and it hadn’t mattered. What capacity I had for love had been uncovered, reawakened. I fell in love with her, and I think she with me. Like magnets, we couldn’t fight the pull. And the collision was beautiful.
At first, I could ignore the bad. As we fucked in cars and parks, whenever we found a time to steal away, to rendezvous, I was consumed with the passion, the thrill, and above all her. She was kind, gorgeous, smart and funny. She was everything I could dream up in a woman, and somehow humble. Somehow, never thought she deserved praise or love.
In the night it did chip away at me though, knowing she was sleeping next to him. Knowing she was fucking him too. And I knew I had no right. I was the other man. But I wanted to be her only man. But I wasn’t enough of one to stand up for what I wanted and walk away. I’d just take my fractured piece of heaven, cause without that, I had nothing. I was nothing.
When she got pregnant, she came to me first. “What do I do? Tell me what to do?” I told her I’d never tell her what to do, support her in whatever she did. Yet even as I did, a fantasy formed. She, the baby, and I, we would be a family. Even if it wasn’t mine, I’d get my shit together at last and we’d be happy. I could be a good man all the time, for her. For us.
For weeks I let that dream grow inside me. I fostered it, I began to clean up my life, to change plans that didn’t coincide with it. I would make this be. I would be this man, father, and a damn good one. I could sacrifice my selfishness and really do it, I was certain.
But it didn’t matter. Today I am useless, as I will always be worthless. Today, she and her bastard husband are killing our baby. And I will lay here in bed as my soul dies, as I realise all that was left good in me hardens, and becomes ugly. How foolish of me to believe someone like me could ever be worth two shits in a world where someone as beautiful as she exists. I deserve the pain, and I’ll let the darkness take me.
*************
I could hear her crying in the bathroom. That bitch, my wife. She did this to herself. How dare she cry now?
Still, I knew, I did not hate her. I had never, and will never be enough for her. I can’t hate her. But I will always hate myself, for being the idiot that still loves her.
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