Hello Again, Sir {s/t - complete}

What About Now: 28.5

Have you ever seen or heard of ‘A streetcar named Desire by Tennessee Williams?’ I have. There’s a character, Mitch, who is Blanche’s beau, and after standing her up on her birthday, he visits her late that night, in his work uniform unshaven, telling her how he knows about her deceits and lies, or lack of truth – in Hanna’s case of example – and his loss of respect for her.

                Yeah?

                Well, that’s why I’m glad, right now, that I am unshaven myself and wearing inferior uniform to my main wardrobe.

                I couldn’t be sure, but if Hanna had ever seen that production, or read the play herself, than she’d know how greatly to her I felt with loss of respect.

                I’d rather she’d said nothing at all.

                I grunted and looked away. If anything, I wanted to run out of the house now and never come back.

Wasn’t bringing up a baby supposed to be about two people?  She may not have wanted a baby – and trust me, I’d never thought about it before I found out – but I did want a baby. And just because it wasn’t in my own stomach, just because Hanna would have been the one giving birth, she assumed it was okay to say such a thing? That’s a human life! I would have rights too, as a Father.

                It's not that I wasn't in love with her anymore, but there was only so much I could handle.

                “I want you,” I said quietly, coldly, “to get out of my house.”

                “Not until you tell me what’s going on."

                 "With what? I don't want to see you."

                  "I need to talk to you."

                "I have nothing else to talk to you about. My mother, Hanna! My mother had to tell me you were pregnant – after you lost the baby. And you wonder why I don't want to talk to you?"

                "I was going to tell you that night."

                "Really?" I highly doubted that. I didn't really believe it. May be she was going to say something along the lines, but she wouldn't come out an say it.

                "Yes, but I didn’t get around to it. I can’t help what happened.”

                “But you weren’t going to keep the baby, were you? You were going to debate telling me, maybe at the end so you could then run inside your house. Weren’t you?”

                “I was going to discuss the future with you.”

                “No, you were going to maybe tell me and then get rid of it.”

                “Alex, I—”

                “Save it.”  I snapped, looking away towards the kitchen. “I don’t want to hear it. It’s finished anyway. My baby is dead and my mother had to tell me about it because it took you so long to debate telling me. You shouldn’t run away from your feelings by the way.” I said, taking a gulp of air before carrying on. “I don’t have anything else to say and right now I’m too angry to look at you. You didn’t have the decency to tell me you were pregnant? You had plenty of time and plenty of opportunity. Now,” I looked back at Hanna, at the silent tears that were rolling down her eyes and push my guilt aside, letting my anger show, “if you don’t mind… I have tea ready. You need to get out.”