
A deal with the enemy - A child?! (14.)
He longed for a child. I didn't do anything about it for a long time. We both had one offspring from previous relationships, and I wasn't really excited about having another. We didn't babysit at all, and pregnancy miraculously eluded me. With a new charge and a desire to move our relationship towards a better tomorrow, the decision was made to get tested.
I don't know if you've ever had an X-ray of your fallopian tubes, but if someone's life didn't depend on it, I'd rather adopt little Frankenstein than go through that again. Worst pain I've ever experienced that resulted in finding out I was fine.
Nothing happened for a long time. We were just back to where we were. I mean, in a moderate crisis. The law of consent had worked perfectly, and I was faced with the worst decision of my life. I couldn't even imagine having a child with him after all this, being dependent on him, being emotionally blackmailed by him again. No, I really didn't want that. I didn't know how it might have been happening right now, but it was the least opportune moment. I had a great job where I was regaining my battered self-esteem. I didn't want to throw it all away. Sacrifice.
Then came the shock. He casually informed me that he'd been in treatment for six months. He just didn't tell me. I was very upset at the time. You're supposed to say things like that. They're important. Especially when the relationship isn't going well.
You may judge me, and believe me, I blamed myself, and I still do, but I just couldn't do it then. I don't know how things would have turned out if I'd kept that little pinhead back then. My life would have gone in a completely different direction. It's probably not worth discussing thirty years later. It happened.
In any case, our relationship has been severely damaged by my decision. He may have understood, but he never forgave. We went on living, but there was an uncomfortable tension in the air that grew worse as time went on. I'm not saying there weren't good times. Weekends were still good.
We just grew further apart. Love. Hate. Nothing in between. All in a kind of regular cycle.
12. I'm sorry. I know you wanted this baby so badly. I just didn't want to bring it into a broken relationship. That wouldn't have turned out well. We couldn't live together without hurting each other. I would have felt sorry for the little creature. You drank more than you should. Your moods were very wall-to-wall. A loving husband when sober, an aggressive drunken asshole after a few drinks. I know, I know. I wrote that very harshly, but that's how I felt.