Towards the end of November things went straight to hell. A coworker informed me that Casey had asked his roommate Jenny to go to our company holiday party with him. For some reason this struck me as the worst possible betrayal and I slowly lost my damn mind over it. I stewed for a few days and managed to act normal until Thanksgiving, which was also his birthday. Casey and I woke up together that morning, but soon parted to spend the holidays with our families in separate cities. After that I didn�t hear from him for a week or so, and then he finally called to let me know that he had been moving again and was now living with his friend Meredith, whose apartment was about five minutes from my house. He was just calling to say hi and see how I was doing, he said, and we hung up after a brief conversation. I was so furious I could barely speak.

I was sick and weak, but I could still take care of myself. I went to work every day and thanked god they fired the marketing director so there was no one to really notice how poorly I was performing. I don�t know what was wrong with me, other than just being pregnant, but I couldn�t stand in one place for more than a minute without feeling like I was going to barf and/or faint. It felt like my insides were trying to fall out.

That sucked, because I couldn�t do any housework, so my house got pretty nasty, and I couldn't cook so I ate a lot of junk. Casey and Pete just teased me about the mess when they stopped by. It didn�t occur to them to help me out, and I was too proud to ask.

No one else ever stopped by. The loneliness was so much worse than the physical discomfort. My friends didn�t think I should go out with them, because I was pregnant. I stopped calling people and couldn�t go anywhere, because I couldn�t stop crying. I would dial a friend�s number and start crying before they even answered. I�d try to go to the movies or the grocery store, but never got further than the parking lot before breaking down. Sometimes I even cried at work, but I usually managed to hide until it was over.

Most nights I cried myself to sleep. I got so tired of the miserable weeping, of seeing my wrecked face in the mirror all the time, that I started doing crazy shit to make myself stop, like slamming my hands in doors and slicing my wrists with razor blades. I�m so wimpy that I couldn�t do much damage. I never broke any fingers and the cuts were no worse than cat scratches. But it was enough to shock me for a minute and make me say �whoa, what the fuck am I doing?� and I would be sane for a couple of days.

I hated myself for getting pregnant. I wanted to die, but I didn�t want to hurt the baby, and none of my research yielded a suicide method that would spare her. I started hoping I would die during childbirth.

The weakness and the crying and the other bullshit lasted until about two weeks before the baby was born, with some short periods of feeling strong enough to wash the dishes, which became a major fucking accomplishment. My roommate, Pete, was not home very often, as he had a new girlfriend, but he was too often subjected to my tears, and he stood it with a lot of grace and kindness.

Mom called me several times a day, which is probably the major reason I didn�t do any major damage to myself. She coaxed me to eat, to sleep, to knock off the self-pity already, get off the couch and do something, and she didn�t even scream. Our relationship changed a lot, and we�ve been much closer since then. I decided that I would sell my house, quit my job, and move back home as soon as the baby was born, but I couldn�t go sooner because I needed the health insurance.

Since I couldn�t off myself I had to have someone else to take it out on, and Casey was a very convenient target. A week after Thanksgiving I broke into his e-mail account, then sent a message to his ex-girlfriend, Miranda, to ensure that he would find out. Intrigued, Miranda called me at work the next day, and she was very surprised to find out that I was pregnant. She was also shocked that he and I were still seeing each other, since they had been talking about getting back together. We felt equally betrayed.

Miranda and I became friends, sort of, and used each other to make Casey as miserable as possible. I trashed him to coworkers and friends, and even sent his parents a postcard letting them know they were about to be grandparents, which made his visit at Christmas rather strained. I gave Miranda way too much information, which she used to humiliate him. I refused to have any rational communication with him, no matter how politely he asked.

December 7, 2004

From: Casey
To: Anna

Well I guess you don't want to talk in a mature matter, so I'm just going to get a few things off my chest. I seriously can not believe the way you're acting. Yes you are hurting (that's obvious) you're definitely very bitter, you are bringing it out on me and what scares me the most is your lack of respect for yourself, the baby and then me. I don't want to see you do anything more stupid then you have already done and lose your job over it and not have insurance and money for when the baby is born.

We both are in new territory now with the fact that the baby is going to be born. I still don't know what you plan on doing, (you never told me) keeping her? or giving her up for adoption? I will admit this whole thing scares me to death. There is no need for anybody else to know if you're not planning on keeping her (and I don't mean this week, two weeks ago or tomorrow because you haven't been consistent on what you want to do). I don't have any plan on telling my parents anything about it, if you're going to give her away. I saw how happy they were when my sister had her baby and I'm not going to cause them any pain knowing that they have a another grandchild out there that they will never meet.

We are NOT dating, we are not a couple. I'm not trying to be mean but I Do NOT LOVE YOU. I have never said or tried to do anything to make you believe anything different and you hate me for it. You hate me for the fact I don't treat you like you want to be treated. Understand me when I say I don't you to be hurt and angry, but I should have realized sooner there was no stopping that and that you were never going to stop believing that I would snap out of it and all the sudden wake up and be madly in love with you. We had some good times (well I can say from my side anyways), but you always wanted more from me than I was welling to give. I continued to hang out with you because I enjoyed your company and I wanted to be supportive of what decision you were going to make. I'm overwhelmed with what to do and am indifferent about being a father right now, which is why I never to tried to pressure you in making an difficult decision that will effect both of our lives for as long as we live. Maybe you wanted me to come out with a "yes" I want to do this or a "no" I don't want you to do this, but I don't think it is as easy as that. Maybe we both could have had more communication and not have gotten too this point, but the time for maybes are over. Calling me an ASSHOLE, liar, a fucking retard, breaking into my email account, putting lies on your online journal (and saying that I wanted you to have an abortion, what a fucking lie!!!), sending my parents a letter, etc isn't going to solve anything. You say you feel better for annoying me, well that just shows how sadly immature you are, it really makes me feel sad for you and the baby. You never once said anything to me about me being there or asking me to help you out if you keep her, you just acted like "l can take care of me and her without you". Never have you mentioned too me or asked me to be part of her life if me and you are not a couple, you seemed to always act as if we aren't together there is no way you would "let" me be there if I wanted too. NO you didn't do that you just come out in an email and saying you could sue the hell out of me, trying to ruin me life without asking me if I would do anything. Yes you are already trying to fuck up me life, mess with my friends, compromise my job and smiling the whole time doing it. Yes I think you do need therapy, you need some friends and you need to quit fucking with me and start worrying more about what you and the baby are going. We are not going to be together, weren't not going to be friends like this so decide how you want it to be and get back to me when you can have an intelligent conversation.

December 10, 2004

From: Anna
To: Casey

> seriously can not believe the way you're acting. Yes you are hurting (that's obvious) you're definitely very
> bitter, you are bringing it out on me and what scares me
> the most is your lack of respect for yourself, the baby
> and then me. I don't want to see you do anything more
> stupid then you have already done and lose your job over
> it and not have insurance and money for when the baby is born.

Oh, don't be such a drama queen. It's not like I've screamed at you in public or damaged your property or your
person (though I'll admit I sometimes lie awake in the middle of the night unable to stop fantasizing about
punching you in the face as hard as I can).

You will eventually get over a few mean text messages and e-mails.

> saying that I wanted you to have an abortion, what a fucking lie!!!

Perhaps you don't remember telling me, three different times, about the girl you once dated who was pregnant when
you met her and had an abortion adn was soooo happy about it in the long run. Perhaps you don't remember telling me that I should not close my mind to that option.

Hell, the third time you started telling me about the fucking girl you once dated I said "yeah, I know, you've
told me this story before." but you probably don't remember that either, because everything you said to or heard from me was so meaningless to you.

Perhaps you don't remember telling me in bed every night for a fucking week that you didn't want to be a dad and you thought the only reason I wasn't having an abortion was to try and trap you. We even talked about it one morning when you were sober.

Whatever. No wonder you're an alcoholic. It lets you think you can get away with anything, since you just kill the brain cells that remember what an asshole you've been.

> We are NOT dating, we are not a couple. I'm not trying
> to be mean but I Do NOT LOVE YOU. I have never said or
> tried to do anything to make you believe anything
> different and you hate me for it.

You don't actually know what I hate you for.

Who do you think you are, anyway? You don't get to make all the rules and define everything in your own terms.

In our society, when two people have a relationship (and you always said we were friends, which is a type of
relationship) and that relationship involves mutually exclusive sex (which you agreed to in order to win me back
when I dumped your skanky ass in March, when you could have been free and clear of all our bullshit if you had just left me the hell alone) then those two people are boyfriend
and girlfriend. Too bad for you if that's not what you wanted. It doesn't matter whether you loved me or not, you were (poorly) filling the role of my (really lousy) boyfriend.

I'll tell that to anyone I want, because it's the truth from my perspective.

> You hate me for the fact I don't treat you like
> you want to be treated.

Naturally. You claimed we were friends, but did not show me even a percentage of the consideration you give your real friends.

You would hate me if I treated you that way, too.

> Understand me when I say I don't you to be hurt and
> angry, but I should have realized sooner there was no
> stopping that and that you were never going to stop
> believing that I would snap out of it and all the sudden
> wake up and be madly in love with you. We had some good
> times (well I can say from my side anyways), but you
> always wanted more from me than I was welling to give.

Oh, whatever. I knew we would be over as soon as I got too pregnant to turn you on (which I figure was about a month ago, from the way you started cringing when I came near you, you were just too pussy to say anything, so you would drink until you could stand to go to bed with me), and I
definitely knew it would never last past the moment of the baby's birth.

I have always known it was temporary. I may have "hoped" that something better would happen, but I certainly didn't "believe" that it would.

> continued to hang out with you because I enjoyed your
> company and I wanted to be supportive of what decision
> you were going to make.

Of course you enjoyed my company. I went to great lengths to make you happy and comfortable.

You sure were supportive all right. Thanks so much for the way you acted like I was torturing you with hot pokers every time I brought up the baby. Thanks for answering any
questions I asked with a resounding silence. And I especially want to thank you for doing your best to isolate me from everyone you know. That sure did make me feel supported.

I was giving you space over this issue, and you were free to say something about it at any time. The last time we had dinner at Tavern you said that you had decided you didn't want to be a father. You also said you weren't comfortable hanging out with me any more if I was going to
keep the baby (though you relented on the latter when I got upset - I guess you just can't handle it when people don't like you). I told you I would respect your decision about teh baby (even if I don't respect you for making it) so I haven't tried to change your mind. I have been going
forward based on what you said - my baby has no father.

You have legal rights, of course, but I'm fairly confident that you don't have the motivation to even find out what they are, much less go to the effort of asserting those rights.

I would be thrilled if I were wrong about that, because I think it would be nice if you genuinely wanted to be a
father to her. However, being a father to her would mean not passing out drunk when she is with you, and it would mean a lifetime commitment that you can't just drop when she gets to a bratty age. I don't think you are capable of ever giving up drinking or making a commitment to anyone.

You know who you remind me of? I finally figured it out. You are so much like my brother. I loved him and I wish he weren't dead, but he had problems. He drank too much and smoked. He had very little motivation. He was very sensitive about his own feelings, but not the feelings of other people.

Mostly you remind me of him because there is nothing behind your eyes. I know why he was so empty, I saw his life, but I don't know what happened to take the humanity out of you.

So let's just chalk this up to a crazy fucking year, where I needed someone to make me feel shitty while I grieved,
and you needed a fuckpuppet with a television and a washing machine.

Now let's forget we ever knew eachother.

He did not bother to reply.

But I eventually got my fill of revenge and began to regret the things I had done. I finally saw him hurt, because Miranda had that kind of power, and I could not enjoy it.

Casey and I resolved our grievances, though he stayed mad at Miranda for another month. After they finally made up, by getting drunk together and making out, he informed me that he would no longer be sleeping with me, because he had promised Miranda. She was still living with her real boyfriend, but wanted to fuck Casey on the side, so our alliance went up in smoke.

I couldn�t blame him for not wanting to fuck me any more, because I was getting really, really fat. I looked like hell and I wasn�t any fun to hang out with, due to the constant crying and self-pity. Through much of February I endured false labor, which was not all that painful, but frustrated the hell out of me. I wanted to be done with it already!

When March finally came my doctor gave me the option to be induced, which I eagerly accepted. We made the appointment for March 11, the day before I was officially due. With the end in sight I finally returned to myself, and it was like waking up from a dream. I couldn�t believe how miserable and psychotic I had been for so many months. I find it difficult to write or talk about the pregnancy, because it was the worst time of my entire life and I don't know how to adequately describe the anguish, especially since it was so pointless.

My last day at work was March 4 and I spent a pleasant week at home preparing to give birth. All the petty shit didn't matter any more, because I was going to have a baby.