This kind of love
I sat in the car looking at the building that was probably the size of the first floor of my house. Drowning in self pity, I managed to gain the courage to walk past the protestors preaching at people waking in the building. I opened the door to silence and a pair of fifteen eyes. Some eyes looked blank while others filled with sadness. I waited for three hours until my name was called. I was the last person to be seen. I was walked back to the room and was left there to wait. My mind could not focus and ten minutes felt like an hour. The walls must have been paper thin because the activity that was happening in the room next to me was so vivid and clear, that I wasn’t so sure I would be able to go through with my intended plan. Panic-stricken sobs rung my ears and must have touched my heart because my plan didn’t seem morally right anymore. After the tears, the hum of the vacuum followed, also continued with the deposit of “it” into the waste. Tears streamed down my face and soon I began to tremble with fear. The nurses kept telling me it was going to be okay and persisted to calm me down but I couldn’t hear them. I’m uncertain to say whether it was the effect of the needle jabbed into my arm or my own personal delusion, but everything seemed still. Their lips were moving but no sound was coming from their mouths. The feeling of fright turned into uneasiness, and then nothing.
I awoke in an unfamiliar surrounding, instantly distressed. Physically my body throbbed, emotionally my heart ached. Tears ran down my face uncontrollably, and I couldn’t help but feel helpless and alone. The nurse told me that she had made the same decision when she was young and that I shouldn’t feel like I’m being judged. This conversation did not comfort me. The feelings of shame and indignity are all I could feel. A depression embodied me, in fact; at that point I hated myself.
The abortion wasn’t the factor that crushed my relationship, but it was the factor that ended it, and ultimately brought me to a realization. For eight months, this kind of love was a hindrance to my life and ultimately crushed my soul. Thinking that I had met my soul mate shadowed the fact that I was young and naïve. Every day from then on seemed to be a nightmare that I would never awake from. After contributing to a meaningless relationship, thinking I would never escape. I realized that I would never be able to escape, unless I was able to forgive. The day I decided to forgive not only myself but the person whom I felt abandoned me, was the day I awoke from my nightmare.
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