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No more drinking, I am getting my life back. Wannabe was rock bottom. I thank God I survived all my self-destruction, and decide to move on. I'm really doing it this time.

A week I find myself in my bed 3am on a Tuesday night starring at my calendar trying to recall dates of my last period. Something is wrong. It's unthinkable for to be pregnant. I add days and estimate. Fuck it I have to work early. I roll over and close my eyes and imagine my night with John Deer. I hate Ex, I wish he were dead. He and his fat ugly girlfriend. I'm fatter. I want to scream, but I sleep.

There are two lines. Why are there two lines? This is wrong. I bought this test, it was supposed to put my mind at ease. It's supposed to be negative, telling me like always, that I'm late because I'm stressed. I'm not pregnant. I'm not. There are two lines. I'm imagining things. I call my roommate. I ask her if she sees two lines. She does. This is a sick mistake. Roommate goes to the store to get more pregnancy tests. I call school friend, she is at the store, and she's run into Roommate, who's filled her in. She's on her way over. I call Girl, I need support, and I need comfort. Girl says I'm not pregnant not to worry. I'm not worried I'm not pregnant.

Three tests later, two lines, four lines, and pink dots. All positives. This isn't funny. This isn't right, I'm not pregnant. My mind races, a flash of John Deer as he came washes over me, he pulled out, I felt it hit my back. He pulled me close to him kissing me stroking my skin. The second time, I'm about to cum again, he pulled out moaning softly. I'm not pregnant. I can't have a kid. I'm not ready I'm to fat to stupid to hurt too angry. This isn't happening. This isn't me. Friend and Roommate look at me, not knowing what to say. Friend sits next to me, I begin to cry. This isn't how it's supposed to be. I know what I have to do but I hate to do it. Friend holds me, comforts me, Roommate tries not to cry. They warned me, they told me not to, I knew better too, but it didn't stop me.

I sit up and dry my eyes. I look up Planned Parenthood. There is no number, I look under clinics, nothing. Frustrated I give the book to Friend. She looks up abortion there is page after page of ads. I know she doesn't want to but she hands the phone book back to me. I write down four numbers. I'll call in the morning.

The office looks informal, like college kids put it together. A woman I hope is a nurse in jeans and sneakers give me an ultrasound. I want this to stop to end. I'm early, 3 weeks. I can't believe I'm relieved. It isn't Trolls. But I already knew that it was John Deer's. During the ultrasound I stare at the ceiling wishing. I wish I were 25, with a job, a healthy mind and body, a home and health insurance so I could have this baby alone. I wish Ex were sitting next to me, his eyes wide as he searches the little screen for his first look at our first baby. I wish I were anything but what I am now. But I m not. I'm here alone my eyes glued to the cheap cork ceiling. I'm praying that this is just a nightmare, the screen facing away from me. I hear nothing. My soul leaves my body again, looking down at me in disbelief. This is the price you pay? Was it worth it? I thought you were better than this? You had so much potential, now look at you. You're this? The nurse asks me if I'm all right, I tell her I'm fine. I am really. I wish I was dead, but I'm not, so other than that I'm fine.

A nurse explains to me my options. She's beautiful, I could have been her once, hell I could have been her boss, but not now. She doesn't look me in the eyes. Have I considered my options? Yes, I want it gone. I want my child gone. I wont make it pay for my mistakes. Tomorrow, its tomorrow and it will be a little pill that's it. Over.

Girl's evil older brother is having a baby with his too young girlfriend. Girl tells me this on the day, I am to take a little pill that will correct my mistakes. It so easy, just pay and all is forgiven. Evil and Too Young are having their baby together. There idiots. I could raise a baby better than they could. I know that they should not have a baby, but they are. They have each other. They are together, and that is so much more than what I have. Too Young doesn't have to stand in the shower, in the morning with white light coming in over the water. She doesn't have to ask herself if there is any part of her that wants this baby. Too young doesn't have to do this, and I do. I find nothing in me that says I want my baby.

I wish things were different. I wish I knew who John Deer was. I wish I knew I f he was a good man. I wish he knew the old me, the woman who Ex loved. Who I loved. Who was amazing and smart and wouldn't have fucked ever a stranger on itchy shag carpet on a Tuesday night. I wish my baby would have a mother who was healthy and didn't hate herself. I wish that my baby's mother was the real me lean, strong, healthy happy. But my baby's mother is me. I'm here alone in this waiting room alone, fat, ugly, hateful, bitter and angry, with stringy hair. I find my self starring into faces of girls younger than me there with their boy friends. The boyfriends stare at me and wonder who was so drunk that they knocked fat ugly me up. I wish Ex hadn't left me, that this baby was his. I know that although my baby was not in our plans, Ex wouldn't let me destroy him. Yes I said him.

I sit in my car, it's a beautiful day. Its and hour before I leave for the clinic I cry and bang my head on the steering wheel. I'm wishing that I had someone, anyone, like Too Young has Evil. So at least my baby wouldn't have only me to count on. I'm jealous that stupid flaky Too Young gets to have her baby and I don't. I wish for a million different things, but I'm still there, alone in my dirty car on a beautiful winter morning tears streaming down my face, in front of my apartment. Wishing that I wasn't going to have to do this. I was better than this, this isn't me.

I sign the paper, I am handed a little cup. The pill is yellow with a line in it, writing. My mind searches for any sign of protest. Speak now, or forever hold your peace, says the priest in my head. Do I want this? I take the pill drink the water. I do, no going back now.

I come home I don't cry. I don't feel anything. I feel alone, like everything is empty. Its like everything is pulled off the walls, all bleached white. Stripped, like my uterus will be after this pill is done. It will be over soon.

At the last check up the doctor comes in shows me an ultra sound of my empty uterus. With exaggerated enthusiasm he tells me that I did very well, and it's all gone. Am I supposed to jump up and down? Get out my dancing shoes? I thank him, but all he did was give me a paper to sign. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it was. It was too easy. So easy, no pain little guilt. I begin to bleed. I say good bye to my baby. I think it will come back when I am ready, I will be ready someday. Sometimes I see myself with my baby my son, Jackson. He looks like me and is eternally three years old. He looks like John Deer a little. I can't picture John Deer's face, so in my head my son has features of some beautiful fantasy man. I emptied him from my body, but my soul kept him close. I made my choice, truthfully I did the right thing. It was so easy. I feel like nothing has changed sometimes. Pain, I can't feel. I'm numb, but I ache.

I write this down because it was too easy, too easy to start over. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was like this though. I try to stop thinking about it. I try to do what I always did. No thinking, just doing. Doing put me here. I destroyed my baby. I did what I had to. I can't forget him though. No more drugs. No more men. No more booze. Roommate and Friend try to tell me to separate from Girl. I know they have a point, but it wasn't girl who made me fuck everyone I met. It was me. Me, Trying to escape. Me, Escaping the pain cause that just caused more. Ex will never come back, and I will still hurt. I know that I am worth more than I think I am, but if I know this why don't I believe it?

Its 2 weeks later, I found the purple cap of one of the four pregnancy tests. I held it in my hand. My mind raced. I Think OF HOW I went so easily from someone I had some respect for, to a person that I have no respect for. I hold the purple cap that was my last call, my final warning. The cap in my hand is from the test that from which I made a decision to destroy my baby. Holding it I know I did the right thing. I'm not ashamed of my choice, just my actions and thoughts that lead up to the creation of Jackson. I held the cap in my hand tightly. I can forget I can't go back. Mistakes are lessons this one I don't want to repeat.

I write Jackson's name on the cap and the date that I took the little yellow pill that cast him out of me. I put it into my box and sat down and wrote this. From time to time I read it again, adding things I remember as time goes on. I can't forget. It's too easy. I won't let myself forget about what lead me here. I know I made my bed, I laid in it. I bled in it cried in it and suffered in it. Parts of me died in it.

Anything bad I did to Ex, I know I've done worse to myself now. Ex and I are even now. I know that I got the raw deal. Hurting yourself can make the pain from others seem like nothing. Wrongs you do to yourself are far more horrible than wrongs others do to you. The consequences are greater, and harder. I can't forget this. No matter how easy it would be to. I won't.