I haven’t heard from Jack since Thursday. I hope that the cops wrap this case up. I jump at shadows and am afraid to walk to work anymore. I am afraid that I will meet him in the parking lot of our apartment complex, or on the way to work, or that he will show up at Wal-Mart one night. Robert has been giving me rides when our schedules do not conflict, and I feel safer with him. He has been so sweet lately; I admit to occasionally thinking maybe he cares more about the child inside me, but I know this not to be true. I think perhaps he felt I could take care of myself, but then I got pregnant, and now he worries. According to BabyZone.com I am five weeks and five days along as of today. I guess I’ve still got a long way to go before this little angel surfaces. Mother has already made up her mind that I’m pregnant with a little boy. I am not sure if I want to know the gender until the child is born, but I understand how it makes planning easier; we could have the nursery and the names ready if we knew sooner. On the other hand, I like the idea of surprise in the delivery room. I think Robert may be coming around about the idea of sharing an abode, especially now that we are expecting a child. Still, I am a bit wary; the last thing I want is for him to feel trapped, like he has no choice in the matter. I love him, and he loves me. We are going to have a baby, and it only seems right to me that we do this together. I want to point out to him that for tax reasons it makes more sense to marry me, or that it would help with my college attendance, or that our family would share the same last name, or that we would save a bunch of money on our car insurance by switching to Geico, but I just can’t persuade him to do what I want. This has to be his decision, and I must remember that this is the life I chose for myself. Had I not wanted to risk pregnancy, I never should have gone to bed with him. The logical part of me knows that it will do our child no good if Robert marries me under duress, but the heart in me wants to drag him to the alter kicking and screaming and make him do the right thing. How do I know what the right thing is? Who am I to judge his actions, for am I not a party in this? We did not conceive on purpose, but we were not exactly taking any necessary precautions, and now after three years of an on-again-off-again relationship, there is a baby on the way. I love Robert, he loves me, we both love our child, and I know that if I leave it be, and let fate take over, then, come what may, everything will work out and all will be well in my narrow and naive little world. Pink–Can we work it out? Can we be a family? I promise I’ll be better. Mommy I’ll do anything! Can we work it out? Can we be a family? I promise I’ll be better. Daddy please don’t leave!
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