They say that in the silence of the nights is when regrets come like old friends but I’m not sure if I regret what I did.
I came across a small picture. The edges had curled in and it had began yellowing. I could still clearly see the salty stains left by the pain inside me that had dripped down my face. At the bottom of the photo was a date written in faded black ink… The day you were supposed to come to this world.
See, I was young and ambitious and I was taught that all life is sacred. But then you happened, you with your untainted innocence and trusting me wholly to take care of you. Your conception was not my choice but rather an act of violence forced upon me.
And yet, when I saw you on that grainy screen, so very tiny, I couldn’t help myself… I cried great tears of what? I don’t really know. Inside I was a writhing mass of emotions. Pain over what happened, hate and resentment against the owner of half your DNA and in some deep corner of my soul… A small kernel of love for you had began blooming.
I grew to love you more every day… But as the love grew, so did the fear and resentment. Could I take the chance that you would look like your father? A face that I can never forget. A face that constantly haunts my dreams and stalks my waking hours… Could I take the chance knowing that I may grow to hate you? That my love for you may not be enough to overcome my hate? Could I take the chance knowing that you would be a living, breathing reminder of the horrors I endured that day? Could I look at you and not see all that I lost that day and how broken I was afterwards? But could I go against a lifetime of teachings on the sacredness of life? Could I bear the burden of ending a life? Would I be able to forgive myself for doing it?
These uncertainties tore me apart, clawed at my already fractured soul. They made my already ailing spirit sicker. Truth was, I loved you… But you were dangerous to my state of mind and toxic to my being. You just had to go. That was the hardest decision I ever made. And after you were gone, an aching emptiness remained… One that can never be fully filled….
As I hold this tiny, old photo I think of how long its been. Nearly a decade and a half and on those dark moonless nights, I miss you. Sometimes when I look at your brother and sister, I wonder how the three of you would have looked together. I wonder if your first words and your first steps would have sent me into joyful tears. I wonder how it would have felt to hold you in my arms. I wonder… Well there’s no use for that now is there?
I return that photo back into its box of memories and as I close that wooden box, I won’t ask for your forgiveness but I pray that you understand why I did what I did.
Gihihi ?
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