2.33: I’m Sorry

I’m sorry.

You both deserve so much better than me.

I’ve already done one Hell of a job fucking up my own life. And now… Well, I think I’m already fucking up yours.

I waited until your grandparents were asleep before heading out last night. I knew they’d never let me go. And I think you didn’t want to let me either. I felt you squirming and kicking. It was like a warning. Like you knew.

I’m just so goddamn bored sitting around this fucking house day after day. I can’t stand it. And it’s not like I have anywhere to go, or anyone to hang out with. Not anymore. Not since I pushed everyone else away.

No Miguel. No Natalia. No Humberto…

It’s unbearable. It’s lonely. It’s…

Well, it sucks.

I don’t know what the Hell I was thinking. I must have stood outside the place for a good five minutes, just staring like some sort of fucking moron.

I just needed to feel better. A little pick-me-up. Something to numb the pain again, y’know?

But what guy would wanna spend the night with a fucking whale like me? I’m huge now. I’m disgusting. I don’t know what got into me… But it was a mistake being there. I knew it. I hadn’t even walked through the door and I was already so ashamed… Ready to run home.

And I should have.

But I didn’t.

You should have seen the bartender’s face. It was like she thought I’d walked into the wrong place or something. And when I opened my mouth to order, she just kinda stared for a little bit.

Guess I couldn’t blame her. I mean, how often do you get some pregnant whale waltzing up to the bar asking for your strongest drink?

She didn’t look too happy, and even offered me some water instead. But in the end, I guess she couldn’t turn down a paying customer.

I knew I shouldn’t have. I knew it was wrong. But one drink couldn’t really hurt, could it?

I lost count after my third.

I fucked up. I’m sorry.

I don’t know what made me snap out of it, but one minute I was sitting there feeling pretty fucking great, and the next I was stumbling home as fast as my legs could carry me… Which was pretty damn hard in those heels.

You were both kicking and squirming again, the entire way home. And I know why.

I was hurting you. I was risking your health – maybe even your lives – all so I could make myself feel better for one fucking night.

I’ve known for a long time that I’m a terrible daughter… A terrible sister… A terrible girlfriend…

Now I guess I’m a terrible mother too.

I don’t remember how long I cried before I finally passed out on the bed.

I love you.

I love you both so much.

And I’m so sorry you’re stuck with a fucking screwup like me.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my entire life. What if I already hurt you? What if you come out all fucked up or something because of me?

That’s what I deserve, maybe. But not you. Never you.

This isn’t your fault, it’s mine.

It always is.

I’m sorry.