ooc: prompts from my girl
Thanks to my girl's prompts, I've finally managed to write something, or rather they did. Go me/them! *grins*
The moment that the concept of "you're going to be a father" became reality
I don't really know for sure, really, just as I can't, even now, pinpoint when my feelings for Echo slipped from interest and a vague liking to...well, you know. The night she told me, I mean we'd only been to-seeing each other for a few days and never did I imagine that.
I still don't know where I went, who I killed, but there was a lot of whiskey involved and attempts at trying to feel something familiar. I was so drunk...when I came back I'd drank more than a bottle of whiskey and had started on another. But nothing of what she had told me had sunk in at all I don't think. The thing is, I remember every little thing about that night - the pain, the nausea, the uncertainty and when I cut myself... when I drew that glass up my arm deeply it wasn't really because I wanted to hurt myself, or that I wanted to die, it's just pain...it was safe, familiar, the only thing that made sense in that sea of confusion.
I remember holding the bottle up to her stomach, I remember the words I said, she said, I remember her begging me...but I don't think that even then it had sunk in that I was going to be a father. At that time, you see, it was an inconvienience to me, a way of making my throughly simple life complicated. You see, it was, in the beginning at least, only meant to be a one time thing. A baby meant forever and I'd hadn't promised anyone forever (or even tomorrow) but I stayed...throughout out arguments (and incredibly hot make up sex) I stayed despite myself. And as Echo got bigger, my child (and even now it seems weird...my child, my children) growing inside of her, I think then, then it started to dawn on me that I would be a father. And when I held her for the first time in my arms, my daughter, after so nearly losing them both and as she looked up at me, her eyes the same shade of blue as her mothers... I knew.
The way you felt the first time your Dawna left to go home to Collin, and further, how you felt when she came to you for good
I always knew that Dawna had to go back to Collin, I mean he was her huband, and their children, but I couldn't help but feel upset and slightly jealous the first time she left my house, my arms, to go back to him. I mean I tried no to, but the more I tried the worse it got - I mean what right did I have to her then? We had met and had found comfort and solace in each other's arms but by law she was his.
I remember watching her leave for the longest time, way after I could no longer see her, just...staring out of my door at the road she'd just walked up, her scent all around me. I remember feeling lost, helpless - that some important part of me had just left (and believe me, it had). But there was also excitement, anticipation that she would come to me again, that-that she loved me as much as I loved her, even at such a short time in our...relationship. Maybe the feelings and thoughts at that time but I couldn't help them, I still can't, except now I don't want to. But with these feelings came another I knew all too well - guilt. She was married with three children (well she still is married with three children, but you understand what I'm trying to say...) so who was I to take a wife from her husband or a mother from her children?
But the day she told me she was coming and that she wasn't going to go back to him, that she wanted to stay with me, for good, I'd never been so happy. I remember feeling my breath catch and I remember almost wanting to cry with the happiness. But there was also the same guilt...but although it's still there, it's eased a little, she is happy now, and more at peace than I think she's ever been. And I am a part of that.
The moment that the concept of "you're going to be a father" became reality
I don't really know for sure, really, just as I can't, even now, pinpoint when my feelings for Echo slipped from interest and a vague liking to...well, you know. The night she told me, I mean we'd only been to-seeing each other for a few days and never did I imagine that.
I still don't know where I went, who I killed, but there was a lot of whiskey involved and attempts at trying to feel something familiar. I was so drunk...when I came back I'd drank more than a bottle of whiskey and had started on another. But nothing of what she had told me had sunk in at all I don't think. The thing is, I remember every little thing about that night - the pain, the nausea, the uncertainty and when I cut myself... when I drew that glass up my arm deeply it wasn't really because I wanted to hurt myself, or that I wanted to die, it's just pain...it was safe, familiar, the only thing that made sense in that sea of confusion.
I remember holding the bottle up to her stomach, I remember the words I said, she said, I remember her begging me...but I don't think that even then it had sunk in that I was going to be a father. At that time, you see, it was an inconvienience to me, a way of making my throughly simple life complicated. You see, it was, in the beginning at least, only meant to be a one time thing. A baby meant forever and I'd hadn't promised anyone forever (or even tomorrow) but I stayed...throughout out arguments (and incredibly hot make up sex) I stayed despite myself. And as Echo got bigger, my child (and even now it seems weird...my child, my children) growing inside of her, I think then, then it started to dawn on me that I would be a father. And when I held her for the first time in my arms, my daughter, after so nearly losing them both and as she looked up at me, her eyes the same shade of blue as her mothers... I knew.
The way you felt the first time your Dawna left to go home to Collin, and further, how you felt when she came to you for good
I always knew that Dawna had to go back to Collin, I mean he was her huband, and their children, but I couldn't help but feel upset and slightly jealous the first time she left my house, my arms, to go back to him. I mean I tried no to, but the more I tried the worse it got - I mean what right did I have to her then? We had met and had found comfort and solace in each other's arms but by law she was his.
I remember watching her leave for the longest time, way after I could no longer see her, just...staring out of my door at the road she'd just walked up, her scent all around me. I remember feeling lost, helpless - that some important part of me had just left (and believe me, it had). But there was also excitement, anticipation that she would come to me again, that-that she loved me as much as I loved her, even at such a short time in our...relationship. Maybe the feelings and thoughts at that time but I couldn't help them, I still can't, except now I don't want to. But with these feelings came another I knew all too well - guilt. She was married with three children (well she still is married with three children, but you understand what I'm trying to say...) so who was I to take a wife from her husband or a mother from her children?
But the day she told me she was coming and that she wasn't going to go back to him, that she wanted to stay with me, for good, I'd never been so happy. I remember feeling my breath catch and I remember almost wanting to cry with the happiness. But there was also the same guilt...but although it's still there, it's eased a little, she is happy now, and more at peace than I think she's ever been. And I am a part of that.