It's done.

The air has been cleared with a fiery rain of words.

G doesn't want...well, let's just say G doesn't want.

He was startlingly opinionated about my pregnancy scare, though. He's strongly pro-abortion, because he doesn't want any of his children out of his care, but 'isn't ready for children yet'.

I told him I'd take his opinion under consideration.

I'm strongly anti-abortion, excepting in the cases of health risks and rape. To not bear a child simply because it is 'not convenient' is not responsible. There are plenty of parents out there who want children but cannot have them for medical or gender reasons.

He spent a long time trying to get me to promise to abort, if necessary, but I wouldn't budge. There's some things I just don't budge on.

Ah bugger. I'm all moist and weepy again.

Right at the end of the conversation, stupid internet radio cycled through to Goodbye My Lover, by James Blunt. It was so ironic, I had to mention it.

Of course, after I hung up, it just made me cry harder.

But that is that. There is no hope left.

I feel...besides feeling like my heart has been torn out...I feel a little refreshed.

Calm. Clean. Entirely without hope.

There is a certain peace in this feeling.

Ray LaMontagne is purring through my speakers right now. His voice is so perfect. His song, Jolene, is one of my all time favorites.

My eyes ache.

Immediately after hanging up with G, I deleted him from my phone, then went over to the computer and deleted him from my facebook.

I will miss that face. I will miss that voice. I will punch him as hard as I can if I ever see him again (as I quite sensibly warned him).

And you know, despite it taking a year of emotional wrestling, I think he's come out a slightly better person for having known me.

I do not think I got very much from him, though, except a whole lot of delusions.

And this will be the last entry about G (except, perhaps, when I find out whether I'm pregnant or not).

Enough is enough.

.

Rosie.

Before&After