Rosie Labrun is a lot of things: a college student on the cusp of graduation; an intern for the Portland Pirates, a romance novel connoisseur; and the most recent addition to her resume...the girlfriend of a professional athlete.
She won't let it d...
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Rosie has this tendency of refusing to look at me whenever we're talking about something serious or life-altering. Like when I first told her I loved her; when she's feeling bad about herself and I'm telling her how beautiful she is; and when I tell her how much I can't wait to marry her.
It's one of the things that I love about her - her quirky awkwardness. It's real, and honest, and shows me more about how she's feeling and thinking than her words ever could. I love her the way she is and I wouldn't change a single thing about her.
That being said, I didn't say that doesn't make things difficult at times. Like when we're having a conversation and she suddenly becomes more fascinated with the coffee stain on the floor of my truck than in the words coming out of my mouth. I usually have to refocus her; which I prefer to do by kissing her - but that usually ends up in refocusing me on...other things.
"Babe." I say her nickname, the affection of it dripping off the corners of my mouth. I know it's tough. I know things are hard and she doesn't want to talk about them or the baby or the fact that everyone knows where she lives. But it will get better; and sometimes, the only way you can get through the hard times is just by getting through them.
She glances over, her fingers fixated on the straw poking out of her drink. I got her usual even though she insisted that she didn't want anything. But she hasn't eaten all morning and I'm starting to get worried about her - well, more than I already am.
"It was my decision, after all." She points out, seeming to remind herself that she was the one that wanted to have the abortion; as if she needs another slap in the face.
Abortions - life and the creation of it in general, seems like it's more complicated than I ever thought it was. It's not like I wanted the baby and she didn't and it was some massive fight. I just told her I would support her no matter what and accept whatever she decided.
We talked about the logistics of it: us raising a child right now. Me being away half the time for hockey and not being able to trade shifts with her at night to take care of the baby. Her, on the cusp of graduation and feeling the promise of a career with the Portland Pirates at the edge of her fingertips.
We both want kids. That's not the question. But are we ready for them? Do we have the time to dedicate to raising a child, given where we are right now in life? I think it's an important question that everyone should ask themselves, probably even before having sex - though, we all know the Tinder dudes would be against that.
"I'm sorry you had to go through it by yourself." I tell Rosie, reaching over and entwining our hands over the console. Her hands are cold and clammy and a little sweaty, but I don't really give a shit. "I wish I could've been there for you." I add, thinking of myself and the conversation we had yesterday - when Rosie had promised she would wait for me to take the pill.
And then proceeded to take on the whole world by herself, again.
"I'm fine." She responds, too quickly for anyone who had actually put thought into it. She shakes her head like she's trying to get the idea out of her mind; or whatever it is that's making tears brim at the corners of her eyes.
