david e. (part 1)
Classes are done. Finals have been taken. Second semester is over. My dorm room is all packed up. I have my plane ticket home. Now comes the hard part. Somehow I have to find the nerve to face David. Gosh, there's so much he doesn't know.
He probably hates me. Not that I would blame him. I guess I probably seemed pretty selfish. I really didn't explain myself much at the time. All that b.s. about meeting new people, seeing what else is out there, experiencing different things. I can't believe I actually pushed that through my lips. I lied right to his face. But it was easier than telling him the truth. It was easier than telling him about the baby.
It was easier than telling him that I had hidden a pregnancy. A pregnancy that was conceived on our prom night. A night that was so perfect and so beautiful. But it was a night that produced something that I was not ready for. I know I was irresponsible for not using protection. But I couldn't have that baby. Not now. Not with all the pressure I have on me to succeed.
From the time I was a kid. Learning to read at age 3. My uncle always calling my parents from jail. Putting me on the phone so that he could hear me read something to him. A magazine, a TV Guide. Anything. My grandmother has scrapbooked my every report card since middle school. My father paid $800 to broadcast my high school graduation on local cable tv when he found out that I would be Valedictorian.
I had every relative calling me all the time asking which school I had decided on. Everybody was reminding me that I'd be the first of Papa Charles' great-grandchildren to make it. I was going to restart the tradition since none of his grandchildren and only one of his children went to college. I was the smart one. I was the good girl.
Maybe that's why I was irresponsible that night. Maybe that's why it felt so good. One moment of sweet rebellion. It's weird. You want to do something. But then people expect you to do something. It starts out as something for you. But then it becomes something for them. Soon, you don't want to do something as much as you did before. But if you don't do it you'll be a disappointment. You'll be a statistic. You'll be a lost cause. You'll be a wasted effort. You'll be a failure. I couldn't have that baby. Not now.
But after that procedure, the guilt set in. First about the baby. Then about not telling David. Then about not telling my family. Then I remembered all the pressure that was on me. I just wanted to get away. As far away as I could. Far away from the pressure. Far away from the guilt. But inevitably, there is no escape.
I have to begin to deal with this. I love him too much to let this continue. Now comes the hard part. How do I get him to talk to me?
-- natalie c.