Sometimes

Secrets of the girl.

Roar!

Nylon hosiery

First Romance No. 17, 1950s

I'm not a good person

Around this time 5 years ago, I found out I was pregnant, and I made the not so hard decision to have an abortion. I was 26, still living at home, and the guy I was with wasn't in the picture. It was 4 months since I last saw him, in that seedy hotel, where I very much felt like a whore. You see, I was the other woman. I didn't care that he was engaged to another woman. I really didn't care. I didn't even care about him. I didn't even like him. I just wanted to sleep with him because it was fun. Since it had been 4 months since I last had my period, I went to the Chinese doctors office to see if I could get acupunctures or any herbal remedies that would give me my period, because back then, from the time I got my first period back in middle school, my periods were very inconsistent. So inconsistent that I could go months before I'd get my period. It didn't even occur to me that I was pregnant. On that day, I remember distinctly it was Friday April 29th, 2011 because it was the day that Prince William married Kate, and I woke up early to watch the wedding. So ironically, they're great day, is my worst day ever. I remember my mom and I driving to the Chinese clinic, and we waited in the waiting room, and I was called up, My doctor asked if I was sexually active, and I lied, saying no. She asked me to pee in the cup (I did), and to wait in the waiting room. I waited for 10 minutes before the doctor came to get me to tell me what medicines I should take to get my period flowing (or so I assumed). I asked if my mom could come along, because if it's pills or other medical terms said in Chinese, my mom could translate to me. The doctor gave me a weird look, said yes, and we followed her into the examining room. "So, the reason why you're not getting your period is not due to your usual inconsistency, but that you've tested positive for pregnancy." "What?" "You're pregnant." "She's what?" "She's pregnant, she tested positive." After finding out, my mom was very silent, very much in shock, as was I. I put on a fake smile as the receptionist who told the doctor I tested positive congratulated me on my little bundle of joy. I thanked her profusely, and smiled ear to ear. But on the inside, I was dying; in shock; in denial. In the parking lot, my mom suddenly in a burst of manic anger, pain, confusion, and worry, honked the horn for a good 5 seconds. I looked at her red face, and wanted her to hit me. But she didn't. We drove home, her asking me questions, and me telling her as much as I could. I was in denial, I thought the test was bullshit. The first thought in my head was, "I need to get an abortion." When she got home, she immediately called my dad (he was in China at the time). It's funny, to this day, he and I have never spoken a word about my pregnancy. Then she called my brother (who was/is living in Taiwan). I didn't want her to call my brother. I kind of feared him, and I love him more than my parents, and his opinion of me is everything. I hate disappointing him. She handed the phone to me, because he wanted to talk to me. He asked me, "Hey, what's going on?" And I, in my normal voice said, "Not much." Denial, denial, denial. Followed would be a weird weekend. That Friday night, my best friend called me to say that she wouldn't be able to go to my house to watch a movie, and she could hear in my voice that there was something wrong, and asked me what was up. I told her, and she was beyond shocked. She said she would see me in the afternoon, and we would get our own pregnancy test. The next day, we went to CVS and got the most expensive test, and took it back to my house. The 5 minutes after peeing on the stick and waiting is like dangling on a cliff. One strong gust of wind can push you off, or some how lift you up back on the ledge. After 5 minutes, and then another 5 minutes to actually look at the test, because fear does that to you, I was pushed off the cliff. It was positive, I was pregnant, I would be a mom in 5 months time. Then my mom came home, and we told her that I was indeed pregnant, and she asked me what I was going to do. I immediately told her, out loud, and no longer to myself, "I'm going to get an abortion." I spent the rest of the weekend looking up preterm clinics in Columbus, but there were non. Which was good I guess, because what if I ran into someone I knew, right? On Monday, I finally found a place in Cleveland, but they had a few stipulations. By Ohio law, you have to have at least 2 visits to get an abortion. The first visit will last 3–4 hours. On your first visit, they make you fill out paperwork, make you take an ultra sound, give you a private counseling session, and a consultation with your physician. The second visit will be the actual abortion, depending on what kind you have. It can take up to 2-6 hours, and then you rest in the recovery room. Also if you're more than 17 weeks along, it will take up to 3 visits. By the time I booked my first visit (they were booked), I would be at the 17 week mark. I called them that Monday, and didn't have any open appointments until the following Friday. So that day, my best friend and I went together, and I looked away as they gave me an ultra sound, and I told the counselor that the father of the baby didn't know he was the father, and that I just wanted (quite bluntly) to get this over with. And then the next Friday, my mom and I went back to the clinic where they prepared me for the procedure, and then performed the procedure on Saturday, and then sent me home, feeling empty and unfeeling. I have more to say about this, but this is what comes to mind as the 5 year anniversary of my worst day passes me by. I'm glad that I had this done. I'm not happy that I had an abortion though, it's not something I brag about. It's just something I did, and because of this, I still have an empty feeling in me. I'm depressed, and I'm okay with that, I slightly welcome it, because this is my punishment by God. I'm afraid that I may end up in Hell, but that is justified. I allowed murder, and I wanted it to happen. People always say that things happen for a reason. That's not true. They happen because they happen. This is not some paradise where everything is rosy. Life is hard, and life gives you tough choices. I might've chosen the wrong choice, but I'm relatively happy now, and I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to my unborn child, but I'm afraid that it's not good enough. I'll be honest here. I wish all this had never happened, but I would definitely make the same choice again. That baby, would not have been loved, or taken care of. You can't love something when you don't love yourself.

He asked, "Are you ok?"

She trembled when he heard his voice, she wasn't expecting him, and she jumped when she heard his voice.  It was all just too much.  This pain, this fear, this uncertainty of it all.  Was she sane?  She didn't know.  Broken, perhaps?  Perhaps.

"Are you hurt," he asked from behind her.

With tears threatening to fall, she straightens her back as much as possible, so as not to slouch where she stood. 

"I'm not," she whimpered, hating that she sounded so vulnerable. She took a long and uneven breath, and shook her head.  This was difficult.  "I just, time....I need some time.  I just need a little time."

"It's alright," he said, placing a strong hand on her shoulder.  "I'm right here."

A few moments go by, and she hears the blood rushing through her body, and she looks to the ceiling, unable to speak, but wondering, if giving up would make her existence go by smoother, as she felt the weight of his hand on her shoulder.

Extended version...

of life when it's a bad day.

Look up diphallia,

And get back to me in the morning. You’ll be thanking me. You’re welcome!

Even her words held no weight to the thoughts she was thinking.

Perhaps puddles are glimpses into another world, and whenever people jump into a puddle, natural disasters happen in that world. Perhaps this is why disasters happen.

He loves her not.