My first child’s mother. Is beautiful, fun, adventurous. We never fought. Eight months pass, and I learn she is pregnant. Her demeanor changes. She instantly becomes distant.
With in a span of nine days, after first learning of the pregnancy, life changed. Love turned to surprise, surprise turned to distance, distance turned to moving away and leaving for good.
I have only been permitted to see my child twice since then. First was after the delivery. Only a few short minutes before the nurses had to finish cleaning and prepping for care.
The second, was when my daughter was only ten months old. Wasn’t even permitted to hold her. I still don’t even know what the source of the taunting visit was for. I have yet to see my daughter, apart from the occasional face book wanderings. She is fourteen now, and i greatly fear the day that she approaches me and I do not recognize her. Thoughts of that bring a deluge of tears. Pain unimaginable. I tried hanging myself, only to have the fresh nylon rope snap under my weight in the old rickety rafters, in my parents broke down garage.
I took that as a sign. I shouldn’t give up. I traveled to Utah. Carrying the last few thousand dollars I could scrape. Established child support, in hopes I could establish child custody in the future. 120 dollars a month. Accrue a little over 13,000 dollars. Stalemate and stall is what I recieved. Fed up, I pushed one more time. Putting everything I had into establishing child custody.
I ended up homeless, penny less, scavenging scraps behind a McDonald’s dumpster.
Three months passed before I was able to pan handle enough money to get myself home. Disabled child support. Recieved over thirteen thousand in unused funds. She hadn’t taken a penny. I, unfortunately, in a position to where I could not even save it for her, for her future. Got back up, reclaimed my life and tried to move on.
I have done this twice, with two different women. Everything is great in the beginning, but when pregnancy comes along, the world changes and the father becomes a target. I never stood a chance.
I have tried killing myself three times now. Hanging, cutting, trigger. All failures like me and my punishing life.
I get over myself. I find another woman. Happy, we get married. This is where life is cruel.
We begin speaking of children. Make preparations, buy a house, new car, new job, built up savings. I finally feel like i got a grip on things. Until I find out through secret meetings between her and our bishop, that the child is his. Not mine. I don’t blame her. It must be me. Third time, blame myself right?
I leave her everything. Fastest divorce in history. Only took two days to finalize. Sad really, how easy it is to get in deep and how much easier it is to get out.
I change, become careful. I’m irresistible, sexual cautious but active. Life feels like it’s pointing me down a better path. I follow. I stop the crazy, out of boredom. Find a sweet girl, in the most unlikely of places. Beautiful, fun, adventurous. A better start that I wanted to begin with.
I told her, I won’t even consider marriage until we’ve been together for atleast four years. Four years pass, we get married. It’s beautiful. We try for pregnancy. Did everything right. There is some abnormal shape with her ovaries and conceiving is impossible.
What did I do that was so bad, to merit such a punishment? Atleast tell me, and make it worth while. Or is it properly cruel, to tell me upon my death bed?
My anger, dark energy, violent thoughts, grudge against humanity is all I have. It is equal to the love and pleasure and happiness I recieve from my wife. I would still accept death if the upmost grandeur of ever possible. however, I have given up trying. Three times the charm right? guess I should have known it was supposed to be the fourth time, everytime.
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