She called this morning. Early. Like she'd been waiting for the exact moment when I would be vulnerable enough to actually listen.
She's pregnant. She took the test. Two pink lines. Definite.
And I felt... nothing. Just a blank space where I expected to feel something.
She asked if I wanted the baby. If there was any part of me that wanted this.
I told her the truth—that I didn't know. That I didn't know what I wanted anymore.
She cried. She asked if there was someone else. And I lied. I said no.
That might have been the worst part. Not that I rejected her. Not that I failed to be excited about the baby. But that I lied about there being someone else when the reality is that there's no one. There's just Simona, who doesn't want me, and the terrible realization that maybe the problem was never about finding the right woman.
Maybe the problem is me.
Maybe I'm just broken in a way that can't be fixed.
Comments
Mario, you need to talk to Sonya about all of this. The baby changes everything. You can't just pretend it doesn't exist.
Emotional numbing + lack of appropriate response to significant life events = dissociation. This requires professional support.
Oh Mario. Sonya needs you to be a man right now. Not a child.
Preset archive comments only — this site does not accept submissions.