I don’t remember exactly where I lost myself. It could’ve been the moving in together, the love that we made, or the safety that I felt when he held me. I lost everyone when I gained him. My friends, my friends but most importantly; myself. We were quickly replaced by his family, his friends, his life. How I wanted to spend my weeknights, was no longer my decision. I gave him the ability to make my decisions for me, the ability to completely destroy the person I had taken years to build myself into.
I used to pride myself on my writings. I could lock my door, turn my phone off and write my weekend away, day and night if I chose to do so. Here I am now, and I don’t feel like I know where to begin. Or even, for that matter, if I want to begin again.
I may not remember where I lost myself completely, but I do remember the day that I realized I needed to gain the girl that I once was, back. I didn’t quite see it then but I can see it clearly now; I had transformed. If ever I look back to see where it was that I grew up, I look to the men that I held dearly. I curse them, I pity them, and I thank them.
It was the day, last summer, that I got the results of my test back, and they showed positive. Of course, I had known before we sat down to take the test, that I was pregnant. It was my fault, I screwed up on my pill, I took full blame for it. I will never forget falling apart on the bathroom floor, and the looks on our faces as we stood there; feeling together more emotion than we had ever felt alone. I made my decision within those split seconds that I would terminate our child. It was something that kept me up every night and something that continues to keep me up, even a year later. I was desperately trying to stay away from this man I felt I loved so much, I could not imagine bringing another life into the mess that we had made ourselves. I was selfish; but I do not regret it.
He could’ve promised me anything to keep that child, but I had my mind set. When the offer of marriage and buying me a house came up; I did not think twice about changing my mind. My mother had me at twenty, I would not have my child then also. It was partly the fact that I watched my mother grow into a woman during my adolesence, it was partly the fact that I could not do it financially on my own, but it was mainly the fact of who the father would’ve been. He was coniving, he loved to build me up and tear me down. More than the love he held for anyone in his life, was the whiskey and late nights. He loved to get on his motorcycle drunk; trying to tell him differently was like trying to communicate with a brick wall and hope for an answer in return. When I decided to stop fighting him about driving drunk or going to the bar 7 nights a week and leaving me home alone to clean and worry; I became the cause of his drinking. I was to blame because I was the bitch that did not care enough.
He was not amazingly attractive, but I thought that he hung the moon. I fell in love everyday, more and more, until the day of the abortion. Before I knew about his alternate lifestyle as an alcoholic; I fell fast and hard for him. He cared for me like no one else had ever cared. It was the love I felt I had been waiting for since the day I saw my father get arrested and taken to prison as a young girl. When I had a long day, he would cook me dinner, rub my feet and run my bath water. If he got caught in a lie, there would inevitably be a huge bouquet of flowers delivered to my office the next morning; sometimes that same day. I ate everything up that he did for me and gave to me.
After the abortion we moved into our own house. I had dreams that he would change and turn over a new leaf. That we would grow up; together. Instead, the late nights got worse and the time spent together lessened. I was on the road to self distruction when he swept me off my feet on a vacation I will always be forced to remember. I think it was a way of apologizing, of trying to save our relationship. For me, it was the end. I knew that after two weeks in Thailand, I would come home to throw my things out. After the trip, my leaving was talked about openly. We hosted Thanksgiving at our house for his family, but when it was time to see my family, he was passed out drunk on my parent’s couch.
December 16th, I left him. It was early morning, and we had decided the night before that I would leave. He helped with what he could, because he was still drunk; and the day became engraved in my memory as one of the best for our relationship. With the help of my stepdad, I was able to leave without having any huge confrontation. I was ready to get on with my life, I was ready to learn to be alone for the first time ever.
It wasn’t until two months later that I feel I was paid back for aborting my child. I went in for my regular pap smear, only to find out that I have cervical cancer, caused by the STD HPV. Although, this is becoming more and more common for women, it has completely affected my life. I most likely contracted the virus from him, and I will forever remember this everytime I hear mention of his name. I will always remember when I realized he was cheating on me, and I will always feel like this is my karma. I still feel like I did the right thing, and that even if my karma is horrible for the rest of my life, I got away from the one person that came closest to completely destroying me.
