First thing's first, let's address visiting California. Under circumstances that are just... not pleasant enough to warrant a happy week.
Blake's mom... is probably the sweetest little woman ever. Standing at not over 4'11", shaped like a pear, mouse-brown hair that stands on end no matter the weather or how she attempts to put it all together... she's just incapable of putting it together anyway but frizzy.
Utterly adorable with a personality to match.
And three baby brothers. All idolizing him. All with matching sets of locks like their mothers. Blaise was always the odd-blond-out. But he loved them so very deeply.
I had to... give them some sort of closure. Blake hadn't called in weeks. And hardly a word before Christmas. I knew. I knew he wasn't all right. His family knew he wasn't all right. What little communication was so... garbled... so twisted. I don't know what they thought.
So I told them... a lie. A bald-faced lie.
I told them we had an argument on the road and there were tears and we had parted ways for a night. I had thought it was just a night, that we just needed some separation, but he didn't come back in the morning. I told the lie until I started to believe it. I started to believe I had no idea what had happened to him from there. I started to believe that we had looked for him for weeks. I believed it entirely by the time I was in tears and... I had to tell them that I didn't think I'd ever see him again. Because I won't. It's impossible.
I told them I didn't know he would react so badly, and I didn't know what he was doing, and if he would ever come home. Even though I know he never will. He can't. And it's my fault. I tried to console the boys. I hugged when it was appropriate. I cried when it was inappropriate.
I played a good part. They had us in for dinner. We were emotional and apologetic. The topic finally changed though. Something insignificant. We left before dark and were out of state again before dawn. I'm going to keep this far and away from them.
And now I've no idea where we'll end up. Maybe the midwest. I like the snow even if Lissie claims it's nothing but mischief.
---
Part two, the oddly hard part of this post...
I'm pregnant. I'm keeping my baby. And I'm going to fight for my little. Don't be mistaken. These are not the circumstances I want to be in for raising a child. I'd rather not be running for dear life with the father who I once loved dead.
But I'm keeping the baby anyway.
I think I can raise a child right. And so I'm going to let myself try.
And three baby brothers. All idolizing him. All with matching sets of locks like their mothers. Blaise was always the odd-blond-out. But he loved them so very deeply.
I had to... give them some sort of closure. Blake hadn't called in weeks. And hardly a word before Christmas. I knew. I knew he wasn't all right. His family knew he wasn't all right. What little communication was so... garbled... so twisted. I don't know what they thought.
So I told them... a lie. A bald-faced lie.
I told them we had an argument on the road and there were tears and we had parted ways for a night. I had thought it was just a night, that we just needed some separation, but he didn't come back in the morning. I told the lie until I started to believe it. I started to believe I had no idea what had happened to him from there. I started to believe that we had looked for him for weeks. I believed it entirely by the time I was in tears and... I had to tell them that I didn't think I'd ever see him again. Because I won't. It's impossible.
I told them I didn't know he would react so badly, and I didn't know what he was doing, and if he would ever come home. Even though I know he never will. He can't. And it's my fault. I tried to console the boys. I hugged when it was appropriate. I cried when it was inappropriate.
I played a good part. They had us in for dinner. We were emotional and apologetic. The topic finally changed though. Something insignificant. We left before dark and were out of state again before dawn. I'm going to keep this far and away from them.
And now I've no idea where we'll end up. Maybe the midwest. I like the snow even if Lissie claims it's nothing but mischief.
---
Part two, the oddly hard part of this post...
I'm pregnant. I'm keeping my baby. And I'm going to fight for my little. Don't be mistaken. These are not the circumstances I want to be in for raising a child. I'd rather not be running for dear life with the father who I once loved dead.
But I'm keeping the baby anyway.
I think I can raise a child right. And so I'm going to let myself try.
Good to hear that you are keeping the child. And you ( @#!*% , anyone) will be a better parent than I could ever hope to be.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you'll raise the child wonderfully Tia.
ReplyDeleteAfter all...not gonna hurt to try. I hope you get some kind of safety to raise him in too.
Good luck both of you.
...Or her.
DeleteRight, sorry. Wasn't paying attention to my typing. first thing that came to mind -_-;; my bad.
DeleteEither way. Sure you'll raise him or her greatly.
Thank you.
DeleteCongratulations and good luck.
ReplyDelete...Interesting development.
ReplyDeleteIt's been a while since I've paid proper attention to you Dearies, hasn't it? Normally I would've never missed such an important detail!
You, no. You go back to the naughty-corner, mister. Buh-bye.
Delete