Full of surprises
Things don't always go as planned, do they? Ahh it's the eighth wonder of life. I got home this morning to me mum puttering about my house amongst the cats and dogs, Jamie was in school, and Sophia was nowhere to be found. I asked where Sophia and the little one were, to be told my girlfriend and her child spent the weekend elsewhere. Why, I asked. My mother shook her head sadly, pursing her lips and withholding information I knew she was privvy to. I sent mum home and waited for my daughter, hoping perhaps she had willing answers for me.
Jamie knew no more than I, all Sophia had mentioned was that she needed a few days away from the house. That's something I certainly couldn't blame her for. We wound up having a bit of a heart to heart, Jamie and I, though I tried to exclude anything that could swiftly change upon Sophia's return.
When my girlfriend came back around six this evening I gave her my best smile, presented her with the brandy, and asked if she cared to have a nice candle-lit sit down with me. I made sure the children were occupied elsewhere and began to spark candles in the living room as Sophia sat and nervously fiddled with her hands and bits of fluff on her jumper. When I'd taken my place on the couch next to her and handed her a glass it was as though I'd released the gate to a dam with this simple action. She let me hold her for a time while she wept wordlessly but once she'd calmed down she gently pushed me away, dried her face with a tissue and whispered, "John, I'm pregnant."
We'd been trying to have a baby, you see, over the course of the last year or so but to no avail. A million and one things went through my mind, most of all the question as to whether or not she's certain it's mine. She's much farther along than I would've guessed, than I even bloody noticed because I've been too wrapped up in my own self-absorbed misery and career. I feel like a right bastard. Of course the child is mine, and it's no wonder Sophia sought comfort in the arms of someone else recently, considering I'm too busy being John Squire, Guitar Hero rather than the simple man she knows and loves.
I view this baby as a blessing - a new start for us both, despite several issues that still need resolution. Sophia and I lead double lives. She's the female support of the household for the children and I, but outside of us she's an incredible poet and writer with the sort of untold beauty ancient goddesses possessed. Every man to set eyes on her can't help but feel a stir below the belt. As for myself, on the one hand I'm semi-reclusive, quiet, sometimes more sensitive than I care to be, content to live here in my country house and be the family man. On the other I'm still a public figure who merely has to sling a guitar strap over his shoulder to get crowds to scream and sweat and paw at me in lust.
Where these dual worlds collide is the place at which lines must be drawn. I battle with jealousy at the thought of someone touching my girlfriend when I'm away, yet I've got nineteen-year-olds trying to corner me backstage for oral sex. It's a terrible double-standard, and it seems I still have many more considerations to take into account. And soon, before the natural order of a chaotic life whirlwinds past and leaves me decimated in its wake.
For now all I want to do is grin proudly at every face I see and say, "Sod it all, I'm going to be a daddy again."
Jamie knew no more than I, all Sophia had mentioned was that she needed a few days away from the house. That's something I certainly couldn't blame her for. We wound up having a bit of a heart to heart, Jamie and I, though I tried to exclude anything that could swiftly change upon Sophia's return.
When my girlfriend came back around six this evening I gave her my best smile, presented her with the brandy, and asked if she cared to have a nice candle-lit sit down with me. I made sure the children were occupied elsewhere and began to spark candles in the living room as Sophia sat and nervously fiddled with her hands and bits of fluff on her jumper. When I'd taken my place on the couch next to her and handed her a glass it was as though I'd released the gate to a dam with this simple action. She let me hold her for a time while she wept wordlessly but once she'd calmed down she gently pushed me away, dried her face with a tissue and whispered, "John, I'm pregnant."
We'd been trying to have a baby, you see, over the course of the last year or so but to no avail. A million and one things went through my mind, most of all the question as to whether or not she's certain it's mine. She's much farther along than I would've guessed, than I even bloody noticed because I've been too wrapped up in my own self-absorbed misery and career. I feel like a right bastard. Of course the child is mine, and it's no wonder Sophia sought comfort in the arms of someone else recently, considering I'm too busy being John Squire, Guitar Hero rather than the simple man she knows and loves.
I view this baby as a blessing - a new start for us both, despite several issues that still need resolution. Sophia and I lead double lives. She's the female support of the household for the children and I, but outside of us she's an incredible poet and writer with the sort of untold beauty ancient goddesses possessed. Every man to set eyes on her can't help but feel a stir below the belt. As for myself, on the one hand I'm semi-reclusive, quiet, sometimes more sensitive than I care to be, content to live here in my country house and be the family man. On the other I'm still a public figure who merely has to sling a guitar strap over his shoulder to get crowds to scream and sweat and paw at me in lust.
Where these dual worlds collide is the place at which lines must be drawn. I battle with jealousy at the thought of someone touching my girlfriend when I'm away, yet I've got nineteen-year-olds trying to corner me backstage for oral sex. It's a terrible double-standard, and it seems I still have many more considerations to take into account. And soon, before the natural order of a chaotic life whirlwinds past and leaves me decimated in its wake.
For now all I want to do is grin proudly at every face I see and say, "Sod it all, I'm going to be a daddy again."