what's left to abort?

i never gave the idea of abortion much thought.  since i was a younger girl, whenever i was asked, "would you ever get an abortion?" i would always answer "yes".  but if i was ever asked "do you think you'd ever need an abortion?" my answer would have undoubtedly  been "NO"

i've always been pretty reserved sexually.  never really doing the fucking your friends thing, it was never really my style.  it's much to do about me.  having sex with people, then chilling with them was embarrassing for me.  i would sit there and go over things that they said and how they looked during the sex.  which, i was sure they were doing to me too.  so to avoid all that i generally didn't fuck my friends.  then i started thinking it would be safer to have an experience with my friend since i know him, think he's really funny and totally cute.  

it started with irresponsible sex.  i was more drunk than i had been in a while and i had taken to xanax.  from what i can gather we were at a club first.  which lead to us nonverbally communicating with each other that we should go to my car.  we go to my car and make out and it's at this point that i realize he is being a little rough.  BUT, what can i say?  I was still enjoying myself.  Then this lead to terribly unsuccessful fellatio on my part, the aforementioned xanax slowed down my breathing so much so that i couldn't breathe during oral sex.  so i really don't know what happened from there but we re-entered the club and it was also at this point i noticed he was SPEEDING up ahead of me so that he wouldn't be seen re-entering with me.  

i got a horrible knot in my stomach.  

all i get is "oh my god, what happened to you, your neck is all red!" to which i just laughed. 

well, him and i end up at the same after party and are both so fucked up we don't return to our own homes.  instead we end up on the kitchen floor of a mutual friend's apartment.  where are disorganized attempt to have sex continued.  from this point on, i don't know what happens. 

my face is burning and i open my eyes, only to find that my eyes burned more.  my vision gains full strength and i realize that he is on top of me, drooling on me with his pants down, snoring so loudly that it actually made me smile for a split second.  i had to get this fool off of me. i closed his nose so that he could wake up... but he didn't- he just opened his mouth allowing more drool to fall on my face and mouth.  so then i stopped trying to be polite and shoved him off of me, searched for my purse and walked out the front door.   

as i walked out of the apartment i realized my neck and legs hurt a great deal.  i got into my car and immediately brought down the visor so i could look myself in the mirror.  i was covered in violent looking hickeys some were on my cheeks, chin, lips but most were on my chest.  and yet still i had this, "well this looks like fun" feeling in my stomach.  i still wasn't upset about it. 

then i actually talk to him.  the first things he said to me was that he didn't remember a thing and for me not to tell anyone.   which altogether in one sentence doesn't make much sense.  if you don't remember anything, what exactly would i be telling other people?  it was at this point i began to realize just how ashamed he was.  i wasn't exactly top notch, he didn't want anyone to know about it.  

that plagued me for about two weeks, until there was another show where we crossed paths.  people were doing the classic post-show-parking-lot-hang-out, except he wouldn't look at me.  he didn't say hi to me, he walked away as i approached the group.  i remember my face getting red and feeling completely humiliated.  i felt like throwing up.  

somehow i found myself writing him emails and sending him instant messages that were never responded to.  and somehow my obsession with him only grew from there.  and i would try harder and harder and go to larger extremes to get him to at least look at me, further humiliating myself.  i couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that he didn't care.  that i couldn't force him to care enough about me as a friend to talk to me, to acknowledge me, to not be embarrassed of me. 

i wrote him some crazy myspace message telling him about how angry i was and two days after he had read it and ignored it, i took a pregnancy test.  

i didn't cry, i didn't do anything really.  i just sat there on the toilet with my mouth wide open.  completely aghast, it never occurred to me to keep my child.  almost immediately after realizing that i was really pregnant with this shameless asshole's CHILD i began to think about how to get money to get rid of it.  i called several places and the price was pretty much $400 dollars. 

what i hate to admit was that he had everything to do with me aborting my child.  i let him have so much of me to begin with, that i was willing to let him have the inside of me too.  i only thought to myself, "how on earth can i tell him, he won't even look at me", "how can i keep the child of a guy who's ashamed to even be my friend", "how can i keep this baby if he doesn't even fucking accept a myspace fucking comment from me?"

him, him, him, him, him, him, him.  i did so much thinking about him.  i would watch him jamming out with his friends, laughing it up not having a care in the world and felt sorry for myself.  i just sat there and felt SORRY for myself.  so often i wished i was the hot chick that got all his attention.  so often i wanted to be someone he cared about so that i wouldn't feel this way anymore.  i wanted to know he wasn't the most evil person on the planet.  i resorted to public slander of his character and shouting mean shit to him whenever i was close enough to him.  and even those attempts didn't work, i was further humiliating myself.  

I made the appointment 12 weeks into my pregnancy.  there was a counseling session that i was advised to be a part of.  and she asked me "what makes you sure that abortion is the option for you?"  I just sat there and cried about how HE didn't like me, how HE wasn't nearly ready even the concept of being a father, how HE was ashamed of me, how HE wouldn't help me.   i never mentioned myself, i just kept repeating to her "i want him out of my head and i want him out of my body". 

it was the best kept secret of my life.  no one knew what i had done, no one knew the decisions i had made- which was a terrible idea because i just got sucked right back into feeling sorry for myself. "no one knows what i'm going through, life is so sad" blah blah blah.  and around and around i went.  i started coming up with baby names.  IF i had my child i would name it this and that.  for some reason i wanted to name my son Garces and my daughter Lourdes Pilar. 

it wasn't until two years after my abortion that i started thinking about myself.  what it meant to me to have a child and what it had done to me to get an abortion.  i still don't know.  

i've always said i never wanted to be a mom.