A New Chapter
At a mature twenty seven years old, I thought I had the world pretty much figured out. I knew what I wanted and I always knew exactly how to get it. Cold as that sounds, I lived my life through honesty and virtue, never taking from others what I could earn on my own. I had learned during my childhood that fathers couldn't be counted on to rescue you when you needed them as mine had walked out the door. I thought I had become hardened to that, and kept reassuring myself that I would be self-sufficient - I would never rely on any man. I would never let any man in my heart.
Fast-forward to January and I met him. He was a breath of fresh air, someone that I had known for years but never really considered and then one day I looked at him and he was different. He felt different. He has never raised a hand in anger or thrown an unkind word my way and honestly, that scared me. I didn't know how to deal with this man that wanted to show me nothing but love and didn't expect anything in return. I finally let my guard down and he completely captured me. Our relationship has been a breeze with the exception of the occasional wrench I throw in it. I'm still learning how to deal with my emotions positively and how to control the ever-present anxiety that presents itself at the most inappropriate times, yet he makes me feel like that's completely normal. I'm not a damsel in distress to him, simply someone he loves that needs his help sometimes.
Someone that needs his help more and more as the months pass, and my body grows and changes with the child that we didn't expect but happily prepare for. Now that my body is not just my own, sometimes I am overcome with emotion and can't express properly how much I care for him. Sometimes my frustrations get the better of me and I snap out of anger. Sometimes we lie awake at night with our backs turned, trying to find the words to fill the silence but too afraid to hurt the other. On these nights I whisper, "I love you" as tears fill my eyes and I wait for him to tell me to leave, that he's done with this song and dance and he wants no part of me anymore. Instead he turns over and places his arm around me, hand firmly on my stomach as if to say, "I'm here, and I'm not leaving." This small gesture causes me to collapse, hormones getting the best of me as I let my worst fear become realized - I am afraid of losing him.
This morning, when he told me he loved me too, seemed to give me life again. I know that feeling of reassurance is only temporary, and when the hormones shift and the anxiety takes over, I'll be counting down again, trying my best to keep him happy though I know he doesn't expect me to. I know that the same fight will ensue - the tears will return, with whispered words in the awkward quiet of the bedroom as I try to convince him that I'm worth keeping - and I know his reaction will always be the same. I place my hands on my still-growing stomach and know that this little girl will never have to worry about absentee fathers and wondering if people love her.
This little girl will have more family, more affection, more love than those that have come before her. This little girl will wake every day with a smile on her face and wonder in her eyes, knowing her mommy and daddy are waiting for her, and playtime is now. I close my eyes and can't help but feel emotional, because I know that I chose the perfect man to be her father.