Tragic Case of My Reality

“Beej, why aren’t you yelling at me?” Mike questioned hesitantly, picking away at the bandages Adrienne had deftly wrapped upon his hands and arms. It wasn’t until her physical presence had left our house that Mike finally grew the balls to address his mistake, continually picking at the bandages due to his nervous, fidgeting anxiety. Though I’d never speak it aloud, my reasons for not being cross with Mike were much too brutish and pathetic to confess seeing as I silently relished every slight flinch and pained expression on his visage while Adrienne dressed his wounds with gauze and alcohol. I took an appalling fancy to just how prominent Mike’s swollen jaw became, swiftly adopting a purplish hue as the night wore on. I was also quite fond of how adamant my elder son had been in his refusal to leave with his mother in fear of my lover doing anything sketchy once Mike and I were the only souls remaining in the house. After twenty minutes of pleading, Adrienne gave up and informed the boy that his return home in the morning was non-negotiable. With a triumphant cry and a smug smirk in Mike’s direction, Joey made himself comfortable in the living room as my ex-wife coaxed my petrified Jakob out through the front door. The ordeal must have been too much for his young mind to quite comprehend.

Most of all, however, I loved being back in my boyfriend’s arms. I felt safe and protected in his grasp, and I was practically glowing at the small victory of being allowed back in his home. Perhaps this meant his cruel intentions were a short-lived reflex to his fear of being a father once more, or perhaps he was terrified of what I would have to endure while being the first known man to become pregnant without the help of hormone treatments or implantations. Certainly it would be impossible to hide away from the world such a significant scientific breakthrough, no matter how insignificant I was wont to feel.

Yet somehow, curled in Mike’s arms, I found it impossible to feel insignificant.

“Beej?” Mike asked again, shifting just enough so he could observe my expression with perfect clarity. I smiled up at him and kissed him lightly on the cheek before giving a verbal response of any sort.

“You got what you deserved and more for what you did tonight. My being angry with you would be fucking cruel and unusual,” I explicated, burrowing closer into the warmth of the body next to me.

“But what I did was…evil. I don’t even know why I did it, and it sickens me that I was even capable of doing something like that to you,” Mike murmured, self-consciously attempting to pull himself away from me, but the weight of my body sprawled gently against him restrained his movements.

“Oh…” I sighed, unable to successfully mask my disappointment in his answer. I wanted some sort of explanation as to why he attempted to turn me out, but it didn’t seem as if he would be able to give me one.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, Mikey. I was just…hoping for…more.” I was struggling to iterate exactly what I had in mind, but I didn’t have to. In the grim way Mike nodded, I knew at once he understood.

“I know, Princess, I know. I’m just not ready to handle this all at once…especially not when I’m already on thin fucking ice with you,” he mumbled, absently swiping a lock of hair out of my eyes.

“No you’re not. You never were,” I replied immediately.

“I don’t understand-”

“The entire time I was with Adrienne tonight, I was terrified I’d done something to upset you. I was terrified of losing you. I don’t think I was ever flat out angry at you for kicking me out…I was more pissed off at myself for being a stupid, fat, emotional wreck.”

Mike was silent for a moment, soaking in my unsettling admission and mulling it meticulously about in his mind prior to proceeding with the conversation. His eyes darkened with a guilty sense of foreboding as he replied, “Typical Billie Joe…blaming himself when he’s done nothing wrong.”

“But I did do something wrong, Mike! I went to Adrienne about this whole pregnancy thing and even considered aborting before you had any fucking clue something was wrong! I hid it from you on purpose…and I almost killed your child without even…even telling-” I utterly lost it at that point, pressing my face against Mike’s t-shirt as the tears fell steadily down my cheeks. My body heaved with silent sobs, and my fists clutched at the fabric of my lover’s clothing as the poignancy took its toll on my already emotional psyche.

Mike pulled me tighter into his arms and shushed me before he inquired, “You almost aborted?”

“Yeah,” I sniffled. “I didn’t wanna be pregnant. I’m a guy for fuck’s sake.”

“Right. I probably would have panicked too,” he muttered, though the hurt in his voice was much too evident to be overlooked. “Are you still considering abortion?”

“No! Oh God no, it’s too late for that. At this point, it’s like murder. Besides…I bonded with her already,” I informed him sternly, placing a defensive hand against my stomach. In a distant, barely recognizable fashion, I felt a subtle fluttering in my abdomen as my child responded to the sudden interference of her underwater world. I smiled down at her, wondering if she’d ever uncurl herself enough to be viewed with unmistakable clarity on the ultrasound screen.

“Is that so?” Mike demanded, eyebrow raised.

“Mhm.”

“Well, I dunno why your Mama Bear vibes are telling you it’s a girl, though. I’m definitely getting the feeling that the baby’s gonna be a boy,” he declared haughtily, giving me a playful kiss on the tip of my nose.

“Oh, you only want a boy because you already have a daughter,” I giggled.

“And you only want a girl because you have two sons. We’re both too incredibly biased on the subject.”

“Not true! I’d be just as happy with another boy! But…seriously, Mike: It’s a girl. I can’t explain how the fuck I know this for sure, but I do.”

“If you say so…oh fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

“What’re we going to tell the guys? No one else but Tré really knows we’re together…fuck, what’re we gonna tell your mom?!” Mike was thoroughly panicked by that point, eyes bulging manically and chest rapidly rising and falling with his elevated respiratory distress. At once, I felt as if I’d been thrown from the top of a building. Sure, I’d considered what would happen once the general public found out about how their beloved rock idol got himself knocked up…but for reasons unknown, I hadn’t once fathomed what would happen if we told our families. All too quickly, I felt as if I was going to vomit.

“Shit,” I whispered. “Shit, Mike, I hadn’t even thought about that! We haven’t even come out to them yet!”

“I know! And now all of a sudden I got you knocked up and unintentionally made you into the fucking embodiment of a scientific impossibility. I’m sure that’ll go along fantastically,” he scoffed, his body tensing beside me.

“We’re screwed.”

“Indeed.”

For a while, we were overcome by an intense, weighted silence where we both envisioned our already perfectly chaotic lives shattering into the more petrifying unwanted chaos of a predicament that may be viewed as scandalous. To us, it was simply a matter of the welfare of our child…but to everyone else?

We’d be a fucking sideshow.