Please Don't Forgive Me

It was almost Thanksgiving and he would soon be joining the guys on tour again. It was Tuesday and he’d be gone again on Saturday. I didn’t want him to leave again, but I didn’t fight because I knew he had to.

His arm wound its way around me in sleep and I sighed. There were only so many more nights he would be here with me. There were only so many more nights he would hold me before he was back on tour. Why was this so easy for him? Why did it seem so easy and effortless for him when it was so hard for me? When it tore me apart inside?

His grip tightened and his eyes opened slowly. It was still around two a.m. but he had an uncanny ability to tell when something was wrong. I smiled as his dopey I’m-to-tired-to-do-anything-else grin appeared on his face. I let out a small laugh and he propped himself up on his elbow. “You know I love you, right?” he asked softly. I bit my lip and nodded my head in reply. “And you know you can talk to me about whatever it is that’s going on it that head of yours.” I nodded again and snuggled closer.

“For now, I’d much rather do this,” I replied with a sigh. His skin was so soft and his slow, even breathing was more comforting than anything else I could imagine.

“Is this about me leaving again?” he sighed. I didn’t want to answer because there was no right answer. Yes and then he would do anything in his power to stay and that was just wrong. No and he would be begging me to tell him what was wrong. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure which it was. I had this ridiculous feeling that the more and more I got like this, the more and more he would blame it on my hormones. I was starting to get a bump, so it now seemed like a much more valid scapegoat.

“I don’t know,” I replied softly. I was upset that he was leaving, but I knew he had to go; I had known he would have to leave since the minute he crawled into bed- gross and sweaty and un-showered—from tour, and wrapped his arms around my waist more gently than he ever had. When he left I would be alone and that was all I could think of. When he was around and when he could act supportive, being pregnant was one thing. When he was on the opposite coast, it was an entirely different scenario.

“I don’t want to go either, Ani, but…” I cut him off.

“But you have to. I know. That doesn’t mean I like it.” He let out a small chuckle and started playing with my hair.

“I promise I’ll talk to you all the time. I’ll call as often as possible; I’ll send texts, emails, pictures. And you can do the same.” He kissed my forehead and I placed my head down on his chest. The steady beat of his heart was like music.

“I’m going to get huge before you get back. I’ll look like a blimp at Christmas and I’ll probably have the whole pregnant-penguin-waddle going on.” I wasn’t looking at him, so I couldn’t see it, but I could feel the smile break out across his features. The way his perfect teeth reflected the light, the way his cheeks got a slight pink tint, the was his eyes gleamed and the way his perfect lips curved so far upward that it seemed impossible.

“I know. But you’ll be that much closer to having the pregnancy over with. Just think, in six months it’ll be over.” He, for one, knew I didn’t like being pregnant. He also knew that I despised the idea of giving birth. But a third thing he knew was that despite how much I bitched and complained and rambled off pointless banter, I wanted this; I wanted our family.

“Six months is a long time; it’s half a year; it’s longer than a semester.” I sighed into his chest and he started rubbing my back.

“It’ll go by like that,” he said snapping his fingers for effect. “And if you focus on them,” he gestured to my womb, “then it’ll fly by, and the few more months that I’m gone will seem like nothing.” I groaned. He would be gone until February. I was due in June. He would probably miss the first time the baby kicked and he would miss several of my doctor’s appointments.

Almost as if he could hear what I was thinking, he pulled me closer—if even possible—and assured me that everything would work out; I just needed to give it time.