We met at a rave. It was the 90s, and the underground scene swirled with music and glowsticks. Barely had I escaped the cloud of smoke that was my final year of high. The first night we hung out ended in handcuffs. There wasn’t a single charge to pin on me except shock. Your crime was trivial, but the circumstances you placed us in were bizarre. Your friend took us on a high-speed chase because he was bored? I’m in the back seat of a car, frozen, with flashing lights, sirens, and a gun pointing at my head. I complied. You ran after your friend spun out, ditching us for the trees. Did I even exist? The officer that pinned me to the ground would say yes. I was the only target immediately available since everyone else ran off to their better place that night.

Should I have seen the writing on the wall and walked away? Perhaps. Would we have had unprotected sex a few months later and a child nine months after that? Maybe, maybe not. We agreed to do the right thing and said let’s figure it out. Do we abort the potential for existence, or do we exist in its unfolding? I only knew one possible choice. We were both kids, but now having a kid and becoming parents seemed rational. It had worked for others and even some that we knew personally. We are only eighteen. We just graduated high school, and you dropped out, but I graduated once my grandfather agreed to do some favor, I am sure of it. Hopes of college can wait, I have a job sometimes, and I’m sure we can find a place to live. My parents were shocked, but the blow lessened since my sister had her first child early too. I was following her lead. Your family seemed much less surprised by the events. We lived together, you were pregnant, and I worked most of the time. We had our apartment with cats, and there wasn’t much else between us other than the baby inside you. Was this our life.?

It was the same year towers fell, but that event would happen about eight months later. Today we were waiting for life inside of you to join us in the outside world. I was ready for this. I thought I was ready, but what did I even know about being able to raise another human? Could I even take care of myself? I was ecstatic the night our son was born, much like the ecstasy we experienced from raves past. Six months into this new life, you left us. Is this what I was afraid of all along? 

hawley