Diary
Page Sixteen
Do you remember the first night we spent together? The first night I told you every single detail about my childhood, about how much I loved to write, how much I loved books. I got those gushy butterflies today, and I hadn’t had them since that night.
It was after the graduation party, we spent all night in your room, down in the basement talking. It was such a great feeling, sharing such intimate details with someone you “love”. I had felt all this weight shift off my shoulders, I felt at ease, and I fell in love. We had a couple of drinks, but we weren’t drunk, we were coherent, and in a weird way, it was magical.
I remember telling you my fears, and your response was holding me close to you. I told you my dreams and your arms wrapped tighter around my body. Then I let those 3 words slip out. 8 letters decided my fate; cut my head off and handed it to you.
“I love you.” Those words were said by a stupid, stupid girl.
“Why?” You had asked.
“Because you make me feel different.”
“I feel obligated to say it,” you mumbled into my ear.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
That’s where I fucked up. That whole night, even as magical as it was, was fucked up. I let that guard down, I let you play with me, I let you get inside my head and heart.
Anyway, enough with the reminiscing, all right.
That feeling I got today was caused by the kid the baby gave me. It didn’t hurt, it was more of a little flutter. It made my decisions, to give this baby up, disappear. I think I may keep Way Offspring #2. Besides the mourning, this kid hasn’t given me any problems. I already like them. Short kicks are expected, but they don’t kick like Roxy did.
I really enjoy carrying this kid.
The baby craves the best food, ever. Chocolate, fries, ice cream, pies; JUNK FOOD CENTRAL. With Roxy, all I craved was carrots and orange juice. I remember all those times you had to walk down the corner store and buy more juice because I drank it all. You weren't ever, really, mad. All you did was give me a pout and go buy some more.
Those are the days I wish I could relive. Those were the best days of my life.
You know what is the best though, even through this shitty times; Roxy likes to put her hand on my belly and “feel” the baby. She can’t believe that there is a baby growing inside me. I’ve read those children books to her about mom’s becoming pregnant. Y’know, they show the older child what to expect, and how to be a good older sibling. It’s kind of cute watching her read it and ask questions. Roxy is the most curious child I have ever known. It makes me proud to be her mother.
Are you proud?
It was after the graduation party, we spent all night in your room, down in the basement talking. It was such a great feeling, sharing such intimate details with someone you “love”. I had felt all this weight shift off my shoulders, I felt at ease, and I fell in love. We had a couple of drinks, but we weren’t drunk, we were coherent, and in a weird way, it was magical.
I remember telling you my fears, and your response was holding me close to you. I told you my dreams and your arms wrapped tighter around my body. Then I let those 3 words slip out. 8 letters decided my fate; cut my head off and handed it to you.
“I love you.” Those words were said by a stupid, stupid girl.
“Why?” You had asked.
“Because you make me feel different.”
“I feel obligated to say it,” you mumbled into my ear.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
That’s where I fucked up. That whole night, even as magical as it was, was fucked up. I let that guard down, I let you play with me, I let you get inside my head and heart.
Anyway, enough with the reminiscing, all right.
That feeling I got today was caused by the kid the baby gave me. It didn’t hurt, it was more of a little flutter. It made my decisions, to give this baby up, disappear. I think I may keep Way Offspring #2. Besides the mourning, this kid hasn’t given me any problems. I already like them. Short kicks are expected, but they don’t kick like Roxy did.
I really enjoy carrying this kid.
The baby craves the best food, ever. Chocolate, fries, ice cream, pies; JUNK FOOD CENTRAL. With Roxy, all I craved was carrots and orange juice. I remember all those times you had to walk down the corner store and buy more juice because I drank it all. You weren't ever, really, mad. All you did was give me a pout and go buy some more.
Those are the days I wish I could relive. Those were the best days of my life.
You know what is the best though, even through this shitty times; Roxy likes to put her hand on my belly and “feel” the baby. She can’t believe that there is a baby growing inside me. I’ve read those children books to her about mom’s becoming pregnant. Y’know, they show the older child what to expect, and how to be a good older sibling. It’s kind of cute watching her read it and ask questions. Roxy is the most curious child I have ever known. It makes me proud to be her mother.
Are you proud?