nccotus

when Alex and I first moved into an apartment in Murietta, California, just after we married, about 6 months after the first abortion–an awake procedure–the weirdest things happened to us.

it was like Who’s Afraid of The Virginia Woolf.

we were always arguing all to the time and Alex was fond of saying we weren’t “meshing.”. I said it was like he was trying to make it with my ear. (That was later )

i said, “you aren’t the man I married.” Which was so silly because my we didn’t meet up right in the first place and we really barely knew each other. So he said “You to aren’t the woman I married.”. And we carried on like that for a long time to in a way that was mesmerizing. As if that aborted child was still between us. Which of course he was. We didn’t know at the time what was happening to us but there was a comfort in this as well as fear and pain.

then there was a second abortion. One is too .many. At the time I didn’t know that I had aborted a child at 13, that’s a long story. The second abortion with Alex was horrifying, an asleep procedure and my life was at risk. They left a piece of the baby inside me. It came down to a green Ford Mustang convertible. Alex declined it. The dealer called and I was left hanging. We got a shock blue Acura Integra instead–’82 car of the year. It was up high outside of the dealership.

Next thing I knew I was driving up to Admiral Farragut Academy in the Integra in Florida forever later with Ian knowing that somehow everything would be okay.