All I want is freedom, a world with no more night…

I hate March 26th with every fiber of my being.

It’s just a date associated with too many painful memories.

March 26th, 2004.

The day I told Jason, Naty’s father (or rather, former father. He’s since renounced all parental rights) that I was pregnant. We talked options over, and he agreed to have the baby and swore that he’d be a part of her life.

A few hours later, he handed me $500 and told me to go get a medically induced (chemical) abortion.

I went to work.

His father called me asking if I’d heard from him at all, I replied that I’d spoken to him earlier that day.
His father told me that he hasn’t seen or spoken to him in nearly two days.

Came to find out that Jason had run and was in Jacksonville, because he’d stolen $3500 from his employer at the time.

By the end of the day, I’d broken up with him.

I spent some of the money on myself and the rest on some things for the baby.

Five years later, the pain is still there, the hurt, the anger, the betrayal…it’s all still fresh in my soul.

I doubt it’s a wound that will ever truly heal.