Note to Self: Just Breathe

Pretty soon 24 hours had passed. I was toying with the tablet in my hand. The tablet that would kill my child. I sat down and thought about it all. Did I seriously want to do this? Both my heart and my head was telling me yes, but it was like there was a little voice in the back of my head telling me to wash the pill down the sink.

Finally, I drew up enough courage and swallowed the tablet, followed by a glass of water. I expected to feel different, but I didn’t. I didn’t feel a personal loss, just emptier. I never loved the foetus. Some people become pregnant and they immediately love the baby. I didn’t, and I wondered if it was because I just wasn’t a maternal person or because I knew I was carrying Cohens baby.

I know many people would ask me why I was okay with having sex with so many people after being raped. I didn’t have an answer. I don’t know if it is because I just want love and attention. Perhaps sex, drugs and alcohol is just my way of dealing with things. My form of grief. Some people told me I had the power to get any boy I wanted. I didn’t believe them. I was just your average girl. But I didn’t want to date anymore. You always end up with a broken heart. The day Blake left was the day when I put up my wall. A wall no one would break through.

The world was totally fucked up. Ashley had told me it was Gods way of testing man. I didn’t believe her. If God was testing us all then what made him any better than the rest of us? I don’t think it is God testing us; it’s us making mistakes and seeing how we handle them. If she was right then I didn’t understand why he had to test us. Was it to see who was worthy? Almost everyone in the world today was a fuck up. And a few of them probably didn’t have a religion. Was we destined for hell? If there was a hell then I would be going there. I didn’t believe in God, I took drugs, had sex before marriage, drank alcohol... Many people would say that the main sin of theirs was lying too much. I hardly ever lied; I tell the truth, and that is what scares people so much.

Blake occupied my every thought. I wondered back to what if felt like to be loved by him, wondered would it felt like to feel at home. I wondered if someday I’ll be good at goodbyes, but I doubt I ever will be; they always hurt so much. It’s such a long way to go to feel happy again, but where I’m going I just don’t know. I often sit on my balcony and watch the world go by. I wonder is it true that when we die we go up in the sky. There are so many things I don’t understand; and never will.

No matter how much I denied it, I was still very much in love with Blake as I was 6 months ago. People say that time makes things easier. But I wasn’t noticing it yet. It still hurt every time I breathed and I always had my arms wrapped around my torso. I still miss Lucas as much as I did when he died, just like I did for Blake. I missed my gang, and the times we were together; I just wished everything could go back to what it used to be.

Love—what was the point of it? You know what I think of love? Love stinks, yet why do we all crave it so much? Is it because of its ability to make us feel whole and worthy? Or because it’s the closest thing we have to magic?

Does anyone else wonder what their funeral would be like? What song would be played? It used to be The Beatles—Hey Jude, but now I wanted Over The Rainbow by Eva Cassidy. For some reason I felt I could relate to it; like when I died then I would be so much happier and someone would be there, welcoming me with open arms. I also wondered that if I died would anyone actually miss me. Aidan would, and I liked to think Ashley would, but she wouldn’t actually know I had died. Would Blake miss me? My parents? Nothing had changed since I had given them that letter; and I felt even more betrayed than ever. I guess life really is full of broken promises.