Sometimes I wish certain people knew how much I sat up at night and prayed to God (oh, the irony... I'm an effing agnostic... moot (good ol' Rick Springfield) point, eh?) that I could just tell everyone "It was just a lie, I'm not pregnant, I was just trying to piss the fucker off". Then again, I wish people knew lots of things. Perhaps about how I lay in bed at night and stare at the ceiling and conjure up names, a vain attempt to cheer myself up, and end up crying myself to sleep because a married scumbag is in my apartment and all I can think is that if he tried to do something, who would help me? Yeah, I'm a paranoid fucking mental case for thinking he'd try to do something (although there was the whole "take your arm off me" "aw c'mon, why?" incident) but still, refer to moot point. Maybe about how I have dreams (nightmares?) that certain people will change their phone number and my child will grow up never knowing who her (long story, mostly old wive's bullshit, if you get extreme mood swings and don't eat TOO much more than you did pre-pregnancy, supposedly it's a girl... so says a magazine at a job I interviewed for) father outside of stories I tell and the two whole pictures I have of him. Then, of course, we have the whole love issue. Mind you, when ANYONE leaves you, it hurts. Then when someone who was, at one point, your best friend goes and leaves, it hurts more. But I guess the real kicker is when said former best friend and man I loved goes and leaves you for the woman he swore he was over and always told you that was truly, definitely, 100 fucking percent in love with you, I guess that makes it a little bit easier to stop loving someone. Have I stopped completely? No. But the fact that I have his flesh and blood inside of me doesn't make it any easier, eh? Does it make me feel any better to hear him admit that he married another woman when he was still in love with yours truly? Not really. Because whether he or anyone else believes me, I never wanted anything but the best for that man. I loved him, I cared for him, I worried about him, I tended to him, I craved him. I never wished him anything but the best even when he was telling me, the mother of his child, that I lied about everything and he never loved me and all I was good for was some decent head. Maybe that just makes me a spineless pussy or maybe that makes me a dumbfuck for leaving my true love, I don't know. I guess it could go either way. Maybe we were meant for each other and all the fighting really WAS just a reason to make up and I left and he got lonely and this is really all my fault for leaving and thinking he was actually gonna come calling and say "Nina, you're wonderful, you're all the things I ever said you were in my diaryland profile and more and I *need* you to come back home now". It was easier for me to put that in the back of my mind when I thought he was actually being honest when he said he was over me and he loved her and all that. It made me think that maybe it wasn't my fault or his, per se, and he was just meant to be with her. I'm big on that, ya know? Hippie chick and all. I believe in karma and good will and soulmates and giving back to the Earth. But what if I was the one? What if the pregnancy is just a big huge fucking blinking arrow in the sky proving it? My life is filled with too many "what if's" right now. I don't need this one. I'm at my parent's tonight because I came over to do laundry and ended up falling asleep on their couch watching "Good Fences" (scared the fuck out of me - don't know if it's the hormones or just that I get really creeped out watching anyone get whipped) and Mom pointed out that I *never* just fall asleep anywhere and I must be exhausted (being sick, pregnant and working two and a half (partylite and soon to be at the hospital) jobs will do that to you, I guess) and I should stay here and just go to work tomorrow. I hate to sound like I'm looking for pity. I'm not and anyone that knows me would be inclined to agree. I just hurt in so many ways and honestly, that's why I've been avoiding writing or, well, reading. I've been avoiding a lot. I can't eat kettle corn or make fried rice, I can't watch certain commercials or go to certain websites, I see Escort's on the road and I have to speed up to pass them. My life has turned into a big huge avoidance game and that in itself hurts. What am I going to do when this living thing comes out of me and it ends up being a spitting image of the thing I'm trying to avoid? I'm going to avoid my own child? I need help and I know it and I guess that's why I need insurance. I'm not above admitting that I'm so hurt, in so many ways, by so many people, that I can no longer do it on my own. I'm gonna have someone depending on me and I need to be at MY best in order to take care of that someone. I just don't know how. I guess I'm gonna make a few phone calls right now and then hit the hay.

before & after