Timeline: August 2012-August 2013

Next up in my sad saga is the loss of the one who saved me. We found out that she had gotten pregnant in the week we were broken up. (You can either believe it or not. I don’t care because I’m not sure at this point.) I was there. I was finding a job. I was preparing to become a parent. I was making sure she had adequate prenatal care. This baby (although it was not biologically mine) was going to be loved and cared for by me. Then, we did have issues in our relationship (mostly caused by me), but we always came back to each other. During this time, I decided to come out to my family. (I’ll tell that story next.) At a point that we were more in love than ever, I get the phone call. The baby is on the way. She tells me she is headed to the hospital, and, after that, I hear nothing from her. Absolutely nothing. By the next morning, I am in sheer panic mode. Is my girlfriend okay? Is “our” baby okay? So… Like I assume any worried significant other would do, I called every area hospital to find her because I didn’t know where she went. I finally found her and had the hospital put me through to her room. I breathe a sigh of relief. She is okay. The baby is in the NICU but stable. I go to Wal-Mart to buy a diaper bag and immediate necessities before I go to the hospital. While at the hospital, everything was fine and normal.


Next, I get a phone call from her mother that makes my blood boil to this day.

Me: Hello?

Her: Who do you think you are coming up here without asking me first after you did this?

Me: Did what? I didn’t get her pregnant! If anything, I should be the reason she shouldn’t have gotten pregnant.

Her: Well, stay away from her. I hope you had a good visit because that will be the last time you see her. Thanks for the diaper bag, though!

I call and text my girlfriend every single day until I get a text back saying that the number now belongs to someone else. I would Facebook message her, but her mother blocked me from it. I lost my light, the person who saved me, and my best friend that day.


I wait months. I still hear nothing, so I start trying to move on. At this point, I’m 17. I start this relationship with a 32-year-old which didn’t work for obvious reasons. Then, I start talking to this one guy who starts threatening to kill himself, so I leave. Next, I make a friend, and he rapes me.


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