][SaRaH][
Authors Note: This was written for
thefirstline community.
My father always told me not to trust a woman. There wicked, he'd said as swigged from his half empty bottle of whiskey. For the most part I never really bothered to listen to what my father said, at least that was until I met Sarah.
Sarah was every mans wet dream. Long blonde hair, the perfect body and legs that went on for miles. All she had to do to brighten up a room was walk through the door. I was in love the moment I laid my eyes upon her. She'd smiled briefly in my direction and I was suddenly week in the knees.
Three month's later we were dating. Four more months later and we were living together. It never accrued to me that we were moving too fast. The only thing that mattered to me was Sarah. If she was happy, I was happy. And she was very happy indeed. She had everything she could ever have dreamed of, a pool, a brand new Mercedes Benz, cherry red of course, and even three little labor doodles to call her own.
We were a happy little family, just the five of us. Sarah, Princess, Norman, Jeanie and myself. Then it happened. I found the offending pink stick in the garbage can one morning after Sarah had already left work. She was pregnant. I saw my perfect life flash before my eyes, and then suddenly it was gone. Replaced with diapers, and bottles and three am feeding times. I'd never sleep again. There would never again be quiet in my household. I'd never be able to have sex with my girlfriend on our kitchen counter again.
It was then that my father's words came back to me. Women, who needs them. All they do is take your money and suck out your soul. Mark my words boy, you'll see. One day it'll all be going great, then she'll say those two little words that will ruin your life forever. I'm pregnant, she'll say. All happy and giddy, like it's a good thing. Then it's bye bye freedom, hello hell. And will she stick around when it starts to get really tough? no, she won't. She'll disappear at two in the morning, riding off into the night on some biker's bitch seat while your stuck with a brat you never wanted in the first place to clothe and feed. And then where will you be, hm? Screwed, that's where.
After I finally snapped out my haze of shock I'd made a run for it. I'd packed a bag of clean clothes and went down to Tijuana with a few buddies for a surfing trip. I'd originally canceled to spend more time with Sarah, but now that I was overcome with paralyzing fear just at the thought of hearing her say those two little words, I had to get away.
Three hours after we'd arrived my cell phone had started ringing. I knew it was her calling, so I chucked it into the ocean before suggesting to the guys that we go get some beers. We spent a week in TJ with absolutely no contact to the people we'd left behind. It was a perfect week, but unfortunately it seemed to end all too soon. At least to me anyway.
I'd made sure that Sarah knew nothing of my homecoming, although upon my arrival threw the front door I still expected a flying object of some kind to strike me in the head, knocking me unconscience and possibly causing irreparable damage or even death. Instead, I was greeted with silence.
Carefully I checked the entire house, inspecting every room so as not miss something. Empty. The house was empty of all of her possessions. She was gone. As an emotion I couldn't exactly call relief swept threw me I began the ascent to what was now once again my bedroom, located on the second floor of my home.
After nearly two weeks of drowning myself in booze I'd finally admitted to myself that I missed her. unfortunately there was nothing I could do about it. I tryed calling her a few times, but she never returned any of my messages. And could I blame her? I wouldn't have wanted to talk to me either.
Two months later Sarah showed up on my doorstep. I wasn't expecting her, to say the least. She was indeed pregnant, just I'd expected. The baby was mine and she wanted to know why I'd disappeared the way I did. At first I didn't tell her, but she coaxed me into submission. It didn't take long for me to spill my guts. After I finished talking I couldn't bring myself to look at her.
I felt her arms wrap around my waist and I lost it. I began crying uncontrollably while she whispered in my ear over and over again that it was alright, that everything would be okay.
I kept repeating I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
Six months and many hours of therapy later, I asked Sarah to marry me. When she said yes I was the happiest man on earth. We were married three months after Alyssa was born.
On our first wedding anniversary Sarah brought out our photo album. She'd done the whole thing her self. It was a pop up book filled with our memories of the first months of our marriage. As we reclined on the couch Alyssa played happily at our feet, and lovingly rubbed my wife's pregnant belly. His name was going to be Lucas.
So, My father always told me not to trust a woman. There wicked, he'd said as swigged from his half empty bottle of whiskey. For the most part I'd never really bothered to listen to much of what my father said, he was after all a low life drunk who'd never been able to hold down a job for than two weeks. Then I met Sarah, and my father's words came back to haunt me.
Thank god she forgave me. I don't know what I would've ever done with out her in my life.
thefirstline community.
My father always told me not to trust a woman. There wicked, he'd said as swigged from his half empty bottle of whiskey. For the most part I never really bothered to listen to what my father said, at least that was until I met Sarah.
Sarah was every mans wet dream. Long blonde hair, the perfect body and legs that went on for miles. All she had to do to brighten up a room was walk through the door. I was in love the moment I laid my eyes upon her. She'd smiled briefly in my direction and I was suddenly week in the knees.
Three month's later we were dating. Four more months later and we were living together. It never accrued to me that we were moving too fast. The only thing that mattered to me was Sarah. If she was happy, I was happy. And she was very happy indeed. She had everything she could ever have dreamed of, a pool, a brand new Mercedes Benz, cherry red of course, and even three little labor doodles to call her own.
We were a happy little family, just the five of us. Sarah, Princess, Norman, Jeanie and myself. Then it happened. I found the offending pink stick in the garbage can one morning after Sarah had already left work. She was pregnant. I saw my perfect life flash before my eyes, and then suddenly it was gone. Replaced with diapers, and bottles and three am feeding times. I'd never sleep again. There would never again be quiet in my household. I'd never be able to have sex with my girlfriend on our kitchen counter again.
It was then that my father's words came back to me. Women, who needs them. All they do is take your money and suck out your soul. Mark my words boy, you'll see. One day it'll all be going great, then she'll say those two little words that will ruin your life forever. I'm pregnant, she'll say. All happy and giddy, like it's a good thing. Then it's bye bye freedom, hello hell. And will she stick around when it starts to get really tough? no, she won't. She'll disappear at two in the morning, riding off into the night on some biker's bitch seat while your stuck with a brat you never wanted in the first place to clothe and feed. And then where will you be, hm? Screwed, that's where.
After I finally snapped out my haze of shock I'd made a run for it. I'd packed a bag of clean clothes and went down to Tijuana with a few buddies for a surfing trip. I'd originally canceled to spend more time with Sarah, but now that I was overcome with paralyzing fear just at the thought of hearing her say those two little words, I had to get away.
Three hours after we'd arrived my cell phone had started ringing. I knew it was her calling, so I chucked it into the ocean before suggesting to the guys that we go get some beers. We spent a week in TJ with absolutely no contact to the people we'd left behind. It was a perfect week, but unfortunately it seemed to end all too soon. At least to me anyway.
I'd made sure that Sarah knew nothing of my homecoming, although upon my arrival threw the front door I still expected a flying object of some kind to strike me in the head, knocking me unconscience and possibly causing irreparable damage or even death. Instead, I was greeted with silence.
Carefully I checked the entire house, inspecting every room so as not miss something. Empty. The house was empty of all of her possessions. She was gone. As an emotion I couldn't exactly call relief swept threw me I began the ascent to what was now once again my bedroom, located on the second floor of my home.
After nearly two weeks of drowning myself in booze I'd finally admitted to myself that I missed her. unfortunately there was nothing I could do about it. I tryed calling her a few times, but she never returned any of my messages. And could I blame her? I wouldn't have wanted to talk to me either.
Two months later Sarah showed up on my doorstep. I wasn't expecting her, to say the least. She was indeed pregnant, just I'd expected. The baby was mine and she wanted to know why I'd disappeared the way I did. At first I didn't tell her, but she coaxed me into submission. It didn't take long for me to spill my guts. After I finished talking I couldn't bring myself to look at her.
I felt her arms wrap around my waist and I lost it. I began crying uncontrollably while she whispered in my ear over and over again that it was alright, that everything would be okay.
I kept repeating I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
Six months and many hours of therapy later, I asked Sarah to marry me. When she said yes I was the happiest man on earth. We were married three months after Alyssa was born.
On our first wedding anniversary Sarah brought out our photo album. She'd done the whole thing her self. It was a pop up book filled with our memories of the first months of our marriage. As we reclined on the couch Alyssa played happily at our feet, and lovingly rubbed my wife's pregnant belly. His name was going to be Lucas.
So, My father always told me not to trust a woman. There wicked, he'd said as swigged from his half empty bottle of whiskey. For the most part I'd never really bothered to listen to much of what my father said, he was after all a low life drunk who'd never been able to hold down a job for than two weeks. Then I met Sarah, and my father's words came back to haunt me.
Thank god she forgave me. I don't know what I would've ever done with out her in my life.