Five minutes in a hell of my own making. Not even the past three weeks of uncertainty unnerved me as much as these few minutes that I find myself sitting on a public toilet waiting for a pregnancy test to dictate my future.
Three minutes... My occassional lover, my sometimes friend, the guy putting me through this is standing just outside the bathroom. Waiting. Praying that I didn't screw up his plans.
Two minutes... He has ten years on me, but he's not grown up enough to be a father. And me, at my age, my future plans didn't include much more than simply surviving day to day life.
One minute... To bring a child into my life would be cruel. How could we have been so careless? I love him, but not the way I should. Why did I put myself here? I have no one to blame but myself, well, and him.
Five... four... three... two... I glanced down at the test and threw it away as I left the bathroom. I paused by the man I at one time believed that I could love. "Go on with your life." I told him. "I will be spending the rest of mine alone." And I walked away from him. I haven't seen him, haven't heard a word. Maybe it's better this way. Maybe this is the plan. The universe, I've decided, takes far too much interest in my life.
