I Am Not A Good Person

Warning: This Story is rated Mature and may contain material unsuitable for readers under 18.

Love can be a many splendid thing, or it can be a painful memory of the past. I fight constantly to not let the memories flood my soul. Sometimes, not so often, I can't keep them at bay.

This last time was so bad. Both me and my ex have moved on, he's even got a baby boy on the way. And as much as I would love to call her a whore, I can't this time. I've seen her. She's very pretty. And she's already better then I was, she's having their baby. She's going to have their baby when I couldn't, was too afraid to do it. I envy her. I was meant to be her. But I'm not and I curse myself every damn day for it.

My current love, Timothy, has a 3-year-old neice. He told me today that she fell asleep in his arms. He then proceeded to tell me, rather excitedly, that he wants to have a baby. He realized his mistake in saying this to me. But it no longer mattered if he said that he didn't mean now but later. The seed had been planted and the memories grew from behind my barricade. I made an excuse and logged off the computer. It was a good 2 1/2 hours later when I lost control and I slipped.

I figured that I would have a 2 1/2, almost, 3-year-old running around right now. I imagined 'her' (I always think of a girl) and how beautiful she would be. I thought of how my life would be different if I had kept 'her' (still a 'her').

"I wouldn't have had a job this summer....Well, maybe I would have. 'She' could have gone with me to 'her' great-grandmothers'. Grandma and Grandpa would have been happy to babysit 'her' while I worked. Of course, I would have only worked part-time, like Linda, to spend time with 'her'."

Then there were no more words as I pictured a morning of this. It's 6 o'clock in the morning and 'she' is already waking me up. 'Her' beautiful face the first thing I see when i wake up, as 'she' is the most absolutly sleeping in that bed with me. The image flashes to a new one.

Me brushing 'her' hair out of 'her' face while 'she' begins to eat the bowl of ceral I just placed in front of 'her'. The kitchen bathed in a pale blue as the sum rises. I look up to the doorway and see Grandpa standing there, ready to drive me into work. I bend down and motherly tell 'her' to be good girl and to not make a big mess, to wait for Oma ('her' great-grandmother) to wake up. Thent he very last bit changes.

I am turning on the t.v. for 'her', turning the volume down low. The image changes again, but only slightly.

Some time has passed, the house is bathed in early morning sunshine. Grandma is walking our of her bedroom and is shocked to see me 'daughter' quietly watching t.v., thouroughly not expecting anyone to be in the living room.

All of this I see from the same spot in the kitchen, behind 'her' chair. There are some things wrong with all of that. One being the fact that if that was real, we wouldn't have left 'her' at home. 'She' would have come along for the 10-15 minute ride to the Vet Clinic with us. Another thing, we would make sure Grandma was getting up, so 'she' would not be unsupervised at any length of time. Yet another thing, Grandpa would have been back at the house and would have been with 'her' the whole time.

Some other things I've been thinking while I wrote this. On the days that Linda worked too, 'she' could have been down at Linda's with Parker and his babysitter, my favorite cousin, Morgan. (As long as she didn't charge me.)

Also, as some of you readers know, I got my darling puppy, Rusty, from 2 of the clients from the Vet Clinic. On the day they gave me Rusty, (Yes, I said gave. They gave me a pure-bred, $600 Shi-Tzu on the basis that he would need a MAYBE $200 surgery to fix a minor eye condition) they made up all kind of excuses to not give him to me. I have a sneaky suspiscion that if I had had a baby at the time, they would have used that has an excuse, saying that I either already had enough responsibility or that I was too irresponsible.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that a dog is better than a child, but he is what I have.

By the way, I particularly like the fact that my ex, who would have been 'her' father, was not in my fantasy. Interesting thought.
I
n short, this, all of this, the fact that 'she' doesn't exsist, is most likely the reason why I feel the way I do. I am not a good person. I do not look like one and I do not feel like one.




I just want my baby.