Meant To Last (pt. 1)

If we were meant to last, if he believed, wouldn’t he have a little faith that we’ll make it through this? But he has none, so what does that mean?1

I knew things would be fairly difficult when I got pregnant. Hell, my mom’s reaction alone was enough to tell me that. I made a mistake. God forbid that, at nineteen-years-old, I be permitted to make a mistake. I loved Daimen. I still do. I always will. I knew they would be difficult. I didn’t, however, realize that life would be pure, unadulterated hell such as this. 2

She started with subtle references. “There are so few that can say they were a virgin when they got married. I was able to.” Hint much? Okay, she’s feeling quite superior to me right now. Good for her. “Girls nowadays just spread their legs to practically anyone.” Great. Good God in Heaven. Now I’m a slut. I may have fallen quickly, but I loved Daimen with all my heart. It was an experience I chose to have. Sure, maybe if I’d had another chance, I might have done things differently. “You could have told me, I could have gotten you on the Pill.” Bull Fucking Shit. This was the exact reason I didn’t want to tell her anything. I knew how she would react. 3

I think I knew. Even back in December, I think I knew. I chose not to take a pregnancy test. I wanted to hold on to what innocence I had left. Besides, I had enough hell with five months of pregnancy. What if I had told her back in December? I chose comfort instead of knowledge. It was my choice to make. It still is. It’s not like anything would have changed. I was pregnant and no matter how often I had considered it, I wouldn’t have ended the pregnancy. It was one of those moments I seriously considered suicide. If I’m such a damned inconvenience to the lot of them, why live? Why force myself to become someone that I’m not?4

I had to look towards the future. When we found out, mom insisted on leaving a note on Daimen’s car at work to come to the house. I had to be at work at six the next morning and my emotions were already shot to hell from dealing with her and dealing with finding out, so I had to get some sleep. I regret that. I should have been the one to tell him. I mean, yeah, we had an inkling: cravings, moods, un-moods, if you know what I mean. But it should have been me. When we told dad, it made things one hundred thousand times worse. I don’t think I’ll ever truly know what happened that night, but I’m sure I have the gist of it. “She’s pregnant. You’re not allowed over. You’re not allowed to call. You can’t see her.” I thought it would all blow over. I see now. It never will. 5

I was eighteen. Twenty-five days until I turned nineteen. If that’s not young, then I don’t know what is. I wanted so much for my first pregnancy. A home. A husband. A career. Daimen loves me. We might not know each other well, but we clicked. We had this instant chemistry together. Lost souls who found a match. He gave me a reason to go on. I tried to stop cutting on my own. I really did. Back at Ann’s house, things kept setting me off. I graduated high school with the word “last” carved into my wrist. Wounds from a paring knife. I was depressed. I still am. Really depressed.6

Even after we moved to Longview, things kept setting me off. First, living in a hotel room for two weeks, having to share a bed with TJ and wanting to write or read, but having to sleep because we’re all cramped in one room and they want the lights off. Four people and a dog were just not meant to be shoved into one room. You know, I was healing when I got back from Florida. I had pretty well stopped cutting. Just a few more days would have done it probably. Our personalities just clash. My family’s and mine. And my heart was just beginning to heal. Maybe I should have stayed in Florida. Speculation. It does no good. Anyway. I started again. I got a job, stayed with my parents and started cutting again. Self – inflicted pain to ease the ache in my heart, the yearning for life. 7

Daimen was a fresh beacon of light to my heart. He, of course, has his own shadows and scars in life. I didn’t want anything to do with guys, of course, memories of David still lurking in my thoughts, but he shone his way through my heart in a way that no one else could. He made me laugh… smile, even. His mom invited me and mine out to their house. I had a dream before. I felt shadows, not unlike Ann’s and I saw myself on the floor of a bathroom with a razor blade to my wrist. “Last of my heart.” That was the inscription I had started on my wrist.8

Yes, he admits that at first, he was just physically attracted to me. Meaning, he just wanted to have sex with me. But as the month progressed he first said he loved me, but said unlike most, it wasn’t love unconditionally. He took that back after a week and said he love me. Love unconditional. He told me about my aura. How dark it was. He said my aura was like his, black and unending. He told me that he could always tell when I was in a room because my aura didn’t just cling to me, like a normal person’s, but touched everything. 9

The last time I cut was September, around the twenty-fifth, I think. I haven’t cut wince, though believe me, I’ve wanted to. It’s been a year now. Every month, he would take me somewhere. Movies, restaurants, anything I wanted. I didn’t really ask much. I was just happy to have someone that finally cared about me. We were healing each other. Sure, we had our bickering matches, but he was always gentle with me, tender. His care of me was helping to heal the lacerations on my heart.10

I was stripped of it all in March. I brought some of it down on my own head, but some of what’s happened is just plain childish. I may be living under their roof, but I was eighteen and ultimately it was my decision. And you know what, it still is. After the first night, mom backed off for a bit. And dad? Coward. He’ll never say what he truly thinks about a person to their face. He tells someone else and lets them do the nasty work for him. But they triggered Daimen’s attitude. He was heartbroken that we couldn’t be together during this time.11

I did everything I could think of. Signed up for WIC, Medicaid. Made an appointment to see the OB/Gyn. Doctor Kirk’s office wouldn’t even so much as prick my pinky toe without Medicaid paperwork first so we looked for a new doctor. I was going to use the same doctor as my cousin, but they weren’t taking on any new patients. He referred me to Doctor Mauldin who at least made an appointment to see him. I mean, here I was, fourteen weeks pregnant. I needed to get in. 12

I started having real bad cramps before my appointment so mom rushed me into the Emergency Room, panicked. I knew I wasn’t miscarrying. I had wished it often, and regretted the thoughts, but I knew I was stuck and I was going to have to see it through to the end. Baby was fine, but they did an ultrasound to check my appendix because that’s where the pain was. They checked the baby and by ultrasound reports, I was fifteen weeks and two days pregnant. At the time it meant nothing to me. I was numb. I needed to snap the hell out of it, but I was numb.13

As much as I appreciated my mom being there for me, I needed him. I needed to share this experience with somebody and I needed it to be him. But they didn’t like him at best, though truth probably is that they hate him as much as Ann, so he wasn’t allowed to see me. Yes, he should have respected my innocence and left me alone and I should have kept the high ground, but I wouldn’t have done it differently had I the chance. I wanted someone to love me, to need my companionship as much as I needed theirs. I needed him there during the first few weeks of my pregnancy, but I was stripped of him by my parents’ selfishness.14

Things didn’t get much better afterward. He was allowed to come over but we weren’t allowed to be even in the living room by ourselves. We had to sit there and feel mom’s negative energy just burn the room. Dad wouldn’t look at me and he certainly wouldn’t stay in the same room with me, much less Daimen. Again, I loved Daimen and from all appearances they had liked him, too. And then I get pregnant and they hate his guts. Again, my choice. Sure, I might not have considered it if he hadn’t put the pressure on, but still my choice.15

I mean, I freaked out. How am I going to be able to handle this financially? How am I going to handle this emotionally? How am I going to handle post-partum being predisposed to extreme depression?16

…more to come… 17

xXxXx Christina Marie Sirius xXxXx 18