It all started when I met her. She was just a couple months younger that me, but I knew I fell in love. I wanted to be with her all the time. Everything about her was amazing. She was funny, beautiful, charming, the whole package. I finally got the strength to ask her out, and somehow she accepted. We were in high school at the time, partying, getting drunk, and trying to make the most out of our trashy lives. One night bad decisions were made and she ended up eating for two. I didn't know what to do. She insisted on keeping it, so I couldn't go against her, no matter how much I wanted to. She was still the girl I fell in love with. So, I stayed. I stayed and worked and worked and worked. She did too, she was strong. We both slaved away to ensure our baby's future was promising and good. We fought more, but that was expected. We were high schoolers with a baby on the way, it was stressful to say the least. It become worse and worse, and I was starting to grow tired of the constant arguing. Our relationship wasn't the same.
Soon, the baby was born. It was one of the best and worst days of my life. I was going to be forever committed to this child and her mother. Yeah, it was a girl. They had hoped it was going to be a baby girl. It was all too much. Too much responsibility. The fire that was once burning in my stomach had extinguished. The one that kept me attached to my makeshift family. I didn't want to spend time with the girl I had once loved. I didn't want to spend time with my own child. She reminded me of the life I had lost. I was weak. I didn't realize what I was doing. It was my fault and I couldn't accept it. I threw the blame onto my girlfriend, and our fights increased. I was never home. She questioned it, but never pushed, as she was too afraid of another argument. I'm still ashamed of this, years later. I ran away from my problems, figuratively. And I kept running away until it wasn't so figurative anymore.
The mother of my child had asked me to go get some milk from the grocery store. The first thought I had was this is my chance. This is my chance to get away. And I took it. I pushed my family out of my mind, too overwhelmed with responsibility. I ran away from my problems and never came back. I will forever regret this, I was so selfish and weak. I saw a couple pictures of a child I should've recognized, but couldn't, with a new dad. I couldn't call her mine. I lost that privilege a long time ago. I knew it was all my fault. It was always my fault. And it would haunt me for the rest of my days, but I still couldn't muster up enough courage to face my problems. Just like I couldn't back then. I was always weak.
"I'm going to get the milk!"
"Ok, be home soon! We'll be waiting!"
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This was co-written by my friend Pia.
