How Little Choice I Had

This is a journal entry I posted here in 2009. I took it down a couple of years ago when I completed the first edit of "Through the Tiger's Door." Last night, I completely another edit, cutting about ten thousand words to make it more marketable.

Mostly, that was done by tightening it up, but there were a few things I cut that really gave me a twinge. This journal entry is one of those things. Because most of what's in it is said in other ways within the book, I decided this rather long and poetic piece was not really necessary.

Journal, September 17^th 2008

Sixteen and cold, waiting for a bus
Accepting a ride
Glad for any attention
“I’ll be careful, I promise”
How little I understood about the world
Getting high on the bus
Getting my period on my 17th birthday

Relief
“I’ll be careful this time”
The next month coming and going
The counselor at school I almost told

His words:

“I was hoping this would happen.”
Did I drop that acid after I got pregnant?
A few boxes carrying all my life
Writing that note
Taking a last look around
Being very quiet
Closing the front door
Waiting
Waiting on the porch
Waiting
The apartment
So much promise

Him leaving for work
Alone
Promises
I’ll keep you safe
We’ll get married

Thinking of names
Alone
Painting a rainbow in the little room
“We’ll lose our security deposit”
Alone
Holding the phone in my hand
Knowing I had to call
Dialing twice and hanging up
Mom’s voice
What they wanted me to be
“I would have liked to have been at your wedding”

What I felt I was
“We never got married.”
What would never be
“Then there’s still hope.”
Blame
My father’s face

What he said:
“We are not going to help you raise your bastard child”

Shame
My brother telling me it was okay
Wishing he didn’t know
Pleading with Mom, but only with my eyes
I wasn’t okay
Wishing my sister would take me to California
Wishing I was invisible

“You still have options.”
The ugly word I still can’t say
“Do you want me to come in with you?”
Not wanting them to see

Now wanting to know
Pain
The nurse holding my hand
Loss
“We’re almost finished”
Anger and helplessness

Sadness and hopelessness
Not crying out so Mom wouldn’t hear
Wanting to die
Throwing up on the sidewalk
My sister sleeping next to me
“It’s all over now.”
Waking up empty
It would never be over
My sister's words:

“I’m expecting.”
My pain at her joy

Intensified guilt
Her taking me to school
Hugging me in the hall

Alone
Looking at the money I’d stolen from her purse
Knowing I was awful

Unforgivable
Knowing it didn’t matter 

Unfixable
Knowing there was nothing worse I could do

Unbearable
Buying as much coke as I could
Doing it all in the bathroom
Alone
The girl in the bathroom who asked if I was okay
“I don’t think I’ve ever been okay”
Lying in the grass at the park

Wishing I could

Just
Die
Throwing up the pills I took
Failing even at dying
So

Much

Emptiness

Billboards with unborn children
“A beating heart is a life”
A perfect baby that never was

My perfect daughter, when she was born

So many choices we have to make
How little choice I really had