twenty-nine: i'm not a soldier

looking back, i can see that i never truly expected you to understand the connection i already had with my unborn child. our unborn child.

not that you acknowledged it as your child. you avoided me, walked away from me, looked through me. i was nothing, just as i had been nothing before you deigned to notice me. only now, i could recognize your unerring politeness as cold arrogance, or cruel civility. i knew that you were neither a realist nor a pessimist, but an opportunist.

i was an opportunity, and i found myself knocking on your door. you opened it reluctantly, knowing it was me. i looked at you calmly, waiting--after all, i was not the one who owed the apology.

you stared pointedly at my stomach. at about eight weeks, i wasn't showing, but under your gaze i could feel my insides bubbling and writhing.

"What do you want?" the coldness in your voice told me that you'd already slammed your mental door shut in my face.

"i want--" my voice cracked, dwindled. i could not speak. your eyes followed my slight movements. i shifted on my feet, spreading my weight around. i tugged on my jacket sleeves, covering my hands. blinking, i looked at your feet. your moccasins from long ago had been replaced by steely black sneakers.

"You don't know what you want, do you." it was not a question. "Have you ever known what you want? Have you ever been your own person, Clara?"

i emitted a strangled whisper.

"Me? You wanted me? Oh, yeah, I'm sure you did. You wanted that, too, didn't you?" i felt your eyes burning my middle again. if my baby could have moved, he would have gotten as far away from you as possible.

"You wanted to trap me. Because I'm the best you'll ever get, Clara. Because you're just not worth it." your feet moved as if to go back inside, disgusted with my presence. then you stopped, gathering venom in your mouth for one last verbal gunshot.

"Someone had better tell that fag that he impregnated a slut, because that thing in your stomach sure as hell isn't mine."

the door slammed behind you, and the rush of wind shook me. i could feel every part of you that resided within me leaving as i turned and slowly walked away. i had been foolish to come with hope. i would have fared better had i come to grovel.

i tugged my jacket around me. it was getting colder earlier this year.

another fall was beginning, and i was beginning to fall.