Before you knew

149. Prepared.

We sit on the ground in the garage, doors open.

The water splashes to the ground.

'Talk.'
The word is said soft.

'Mom old You about my notes?' He asks.
He has his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around them
'She did.'

He sighs.

He tells me what it feels like when his adhd retreats into his mind.
The whirlwind of chaos the it creates, takin up any thoughts he may have.

He speaks of how he can get when it happens.
Passive aggressive, with no filter.

What if you start to write again?
The question had left my lips as I looked at him.
The answer had been clear, I don't want to go back to that.
Yet his hand twitched in anticipation of holding a pen, and letting thoughts come to life with ink.

Would it be bad?

Clay had scratched his head at the question.
I don't know, maybe.

But through that conversation, it started.
A note on the kitchen counter.
One in his jacket pocket.
One on the dinner table.

From finding one every once in a while it started to become worse.
The mirror in our bedroom covered with self-destructive notes.
His monitor lined with bright yellow, green and pink.

Our conversation became less heavy as he, probably, had already written out what he had to say.
That's when I started to read what was scribbled on the cheerful paper.

"It's too hard"
"Why am I such a prick?"
"The thoughts won't stop."
"Baby."
"Baby"
"Baby."
"Baby."

'We should talk.'
Its been two weeks since the notes started to get worse.

'About what?'
He turns off his phone and watches me sit down.
'Im pregnant, and we haven't talked about what to do.'
He sighs as sits back, turning to me.
'Since This all started it feels like I don't even know you, like the notes, and how bad things can get for you.'

He assures me that it's fine, and wasn't something he had wanted to share freely.
Past is past, now is more important.

'Alright, then tell me.... have you really thought about what having a child is like?'
Clays eyes fall to the ground, he flips the phone in his hands to move something.

'The extra bedroom upstairs can be made into a child's room, then I'll take the room downstairs. We'll need to repaint that room anyways. We need to buy a lot of things, and we'll need to start a bank account so we can start saving money for the kids school. We Uhm... we need cards, for when the baby is born. I Uhm....'

He Scratches the back of his head as he tries to think of more,
Yet he already thought of a lot.

'The... the room, could maybe be this mint green, ya know. The blue green color?'
He meets my eyes.
'Yeah.'

'I... Uhm...'
He scratches his neck.

Perhaps I misunderstood his answer.
He wants this kid and he knows how he's going to do it.
He seems prepared.

'But, I'll say it again. I understand now, if you don't want that.'
I sigh and look at my hands.
'Lets wait till our next appointment.'