🥜 "IT" 🥜

We both laid there on the linoleum for what felt like weeks. I'd imagine this came pretty close to how hell would feel. That feeling of hopeless despair and chaos. Things going wrong with no one to blame but us. I had a heart-to-heart with the Devil - or God, whoever might be out there listening, and asked him to take it back. We'd made a mistake, and we both knew it. We cried til we couldn't cry anymore. There comes a point when one is drained and void of emotions - numb to everything to keep from going insane. All the reasons why this wasn't good for us ran amok in my head. We weren't ready. We weren't prepared. Things would have to change. This would be the most important thing in our lives for the rest of our lives. What would our parents say? The rest of our lives had been decided for us because we let our desires and lusts get out of control. 

Weeks later we had begun to come to terms with the facts. It was going to happen whether we liked it or were ready or not. She was more willing to accept it than I. I was angry and unreasonable and bitter. This wasn't what I wanted and I felt somehow like she did, and trapped. Obligated to her for the rest of my life. And I would eventually come to accept that. I had no other choice. Choices, if they are the wrong ones, limit your choices from there on out. That choice had come and gone. Perhaps it was wrong, but we would both pay for that.

Months later, after "it" had come and then gone, she laid crying on my bed, wishing God hadn't taken it back. But He had, and I, in my selfishness, was relieved. She had lost a piece of me that she may never get back, and part of her still hates me for that. A void, an empty, cold and static bubble of nothing entered me then and still remains now. Undeserving of such a thing, we were back to two, instead of three. Katie and me.