It killed me inside. Not the fact that he cheated on me, but the fact I was carrying his baby and he had no idea. I didn't know what to tell him or how to tell him. My big plan was to keep it a secret, simply because I saw him everyday and not once did he care to apologize. But then again why would he? He is having way too much fun with his new girlfriend.
It came to the point where I wanted the best for my child but I couldn't help staying up all night wondering what Joshua and Nalda we're doing,what their conversations we're like, what we're their plans, if they really love each other, if they would grow old together and if Joshua even remembers I exists.
I even developed a new habit, I started cutting myself. The first time I did it, I was in my room doing homework. I was to write a 1000 word essay on the topic love. I sat there wondering if it even exists, if it's even real and if this was a topic to just torture me. I could remember tearing my sharpener to pieces and using the razor to cut myself. It seemed as though the more I cut, the more numb my skin became and the more invisible I was to the pain.
The water works started again. Tear after tear after tear. Memories and flashbacks came almost as quick as the blood dripped.
That night at dinner I found a long sleeve shirt to wear. In my mothers eyes I'm a strong, independent woman sometimes stupid and makes dumb decisions. How could I tell her my true feelings now? I didn't want her to know how heartbroken I really was. She was the true definition of a strong woman and disappointing her was something I couldn't think of.
I sat down at the dinner table with the family, mom made my favorite, she did homemade pizza. As always I had my knive in my right hand and fork in left but the only difference between that day and the rest was that I never ate. I tried to, but I barely touched it. My dad was making fun of his boss which always makes me laugh, but that night I was totally stone faced. Everyone was shocked, I could see it, but as always they said nothing.
After those experiences, I made cutting, not eating and just being sad all the time a normal routine. I tried to cover them up as good as I could though. I wore long sleeve over my uniform everyday for school and my excuse was that I had a cold. I tried smiling and participating as much as I could in class and at dinner I tell my parents I ate at school.
It seemed believable at first, no one really suspected anything but my acting skills started failing me not too long after. I couldn't hide the fact that I was depressed. I don't like admitting it to myself but I couldn't lie anymore. My parents, teachers and even classmates started to notice and confronted me about it.
My mom took the usual pattern of questioning me, she just came out from nowhere and said Why are you depressed and don't tell me you're not cause I know you are.
I had no choice but to admit it but I told her because school was stressing me out. As always she just said ohhh and left the room.
My teacher on the other hand pulled aside in one of her classes and asked me. It wasn't too far from the way my mother asked but it was better. But my response was the same one I gave my mother. She had the same reply.
I thought to myself that if so many people noticed this, I need to be cured. My first thought wasn't the doctor. I had my first try of marijuana.............
