From the beginning of my relationship with Pete, I was different. I had slipped into that person I knew I was supposed to be. Wanted to be. I had completely stopped doing drugs period and was no longer smoking cigarettes. We drank only in social situations. He was a cowboy, a real cowboy. He owned horses and cows, was active in team roping. Going from rodeo to rodeo. I was treated so kindly by him and we were in love. Around all new people, none of which even knew what drugs looked like. I was different. I never dressed like the other girls who wore there boots and jeans. I still had that edgy rock style that was liking my new found body.
My family loved him and we spent a lot of time with my parents just hanging with them. I had changed my life and was loving it. We were able to laugh and love and spend all our time together without any problems. It didn't take long before we knew we were meant for each other. He asked me to marry him and we were happily engaged. I had become a social person with lots of new friends. I could hardly remember all of the pain and suffering I had just recently left behind.
Then, we found out that I was pregnant. We both did not know what to do. I am not sure why because I was already planning our wedding and this should have just sped things up. We definitely handled it all wrong. Kept the news to ourselves afraid of what our parents would think about it. I did go to the doctor and kept my monthly appointments. I was excited about it but for whatever reason around others we were in denial not telling a soul. About 3 months into the pregnancy our coworkers began to notice the weight gain and the buzz was out.People were talking. We still did not confirm this with anyone but ourselves. So immature.
On my 4th month checkup with my doctor I went in and went through the normal exam but something was different. The nurses were quiet and went in and out. I was sent to receive a sonogram and remember how the man doing it would not speak to me, having the screen turned away from me. I knew something was wrong. I had Pete waiting out in the truck for me that day as being seen together in the gyno office would alert enquiring minds in our small town. My next stop was the doctors private office where he notified me our baby was dead. I think I crumbled into a million pieces that moment, all alone in that office. Now what? Well the procedure was going to be an E&C. Whatever that means, I know the first word stood for evacuation. But the catch was it was a holiday weekend Presidents Day which happens to fall right around Valentines Day. I was told I would carry my dead fetus around inside of me for about 5 more days before the procedure could be done. I was a bridesmaid in a wedding that weekend! I was a wreck. We still did not tell my parents or his about what was happening. We were both in shock and mostly didn't talk about it. I was a robot the entire weekend.
Going to the hospital and checking in by myself I can't even remember. I was in a daze and had told Pete to go to work that I would be OK. The next thing I remember I was done and laying in a room by myself waiting to be released. No more baby, and it all hit me. All the emotions came rushing in on me and I was alone. The loneliness was overwhelming and I was more sad at that moment than ever in my life. Why was I alone? I picked up the phone and called my mother who was at work and when she answered I just sat there crying. I couldn't talk I think I was able to get the words hospital out and she flew into a panic. Thinking I was in a wreck. No Mom not a wreck. I was a wreck but not in one. Of course she came straight over tho the hospital and comforted me. That was it, it was done. I recovered at home and now everyone knew. I had to tell my boss and everyone there knew also.
Looking back at that it changed me. It hurt me but I did what I always had done. Didn't talk about the pain I started partying. We picked up the pace on our drinking and distinctly remember, that is when the fighting started. We were not in a good place. I lost a piece of me that day and didn't know how to recover. Anger was what it came out as. Lashing out in drunken fits at the nicest guy I had known. Leaving the factory was soon to follow. I was going to beauty school. My parents paid in full and I was on my way to a real career. I took a part time job in a grocery store deli. I postponed the wedding, stating I needed more time to plan.
Within a short while of being away from the factory, where we both worked, I found that I was obviously attractive to other men. This was new to me. I had lost and kept off a large amount of weight but that didn't mean my brain knew it. I, of course, didn't know how to handle all this attention that was being paid me by other men. Well in true fashion of a girl with low to no self esteem and writhing in pain I acted out. I was cheating on my fiance. Not a relationship, just cheating. I knew at times he must have known, things changed dramatically between us and I was the main source of all the destruction again. I was tearing my life apart. I couldn't see it for sure. I was having fun and thought I was missing out on loads of fun to be had. I started partying without him going to night clubs and getting wasted. The end was nearing....
I did break it off with him. I needed time to figure things out I think was my reason. So off I went into this world I had never been. I was young and beautiful and careless with my self at best. I stopped showing up to school for more than a few hours at a time. I again was partying all night and sleeping all day. Back on drugs in no time flat. Pete and I would still talk but I called all the shots and would hold nothing back. I hurt him so badly. I remember his eyes. I remember the pain in them. All he wanted was his girl back but little did he know I was too far gone to ever come back. I held on to him for my own selfish reasons. I needed to feel that love he had. Like I mattered to him.
One night in June I had a party at my parents house while they were away for the weekend and it was out of control. I don't know how many people were there rifling through my parents things disrespecting all of there belongings. I got a phone call and it was Pete. He wanted to talk to me about something. Well, I didn't have time for that. We were partying and he was being a downer so I quickly ended the call and went about my life. Not thinking about him or the call again.
About three days later I was at Cindy's house and went to take a shower around 5:30p.m. to get ready for the night. I wore and never took off, this one necklace it was a simple leather strap with wire wrapped around a crystal. Loved it. Kinda believed it. You know the whole new age thing. While in the shower the crystal fell from the thin wire it was wrapped in and cracked in half on the floor of the shower. I was instantly alerted and upset I showed it to Cindy and remember her saying that it means someone died. We just kinda looked at each other and that was it.
Not until the next day while sleeping in Cindy's bed did I get a phone call from another girlfriend that Pete had been in a car accident on his way home from work the day before. He hadn't made it. What? Pete was dead! Pete was dead! Pete was dead???? Couldn't be, I wasn't understanding what I was hearing.
All was a blur after that. I remember the funeral. I remember how my once vibrant fiance was lying there cold and gray. No life, no smile, nothing. I remember the sound of his mothers voice screaming his name in pain over and over again in the church. I remember the overlall sadness that covered that church like a wet cloth. I put a picture of us in his coffin. I can still see that picture in my head today. Of days that were good. We both had life and love in our eyes. How could he be in there now. This man was so amazing in every way. The people he had that loved him. I didn't have that. I had to leach off of him to feel that kind of happiness and friendship. I think I died too that day.
I ran hard and fast from that pain and it was many more years to come before I ever even dealt with the fact that he was dead. I prolonged the pain and suffering in my life over the death of our unborn child followed quickly by the death of him. It all gets dark after this day....I moved into unknown territory by most. I left everyone that loved me and tried unknowingly to make myself suffer for pain I didn't know what else to do with. The lingering question constantly on my mind. What did he want to talk to me about that night I blew him off? It was important I know. Why couldn't I have taken that call and if I had would things be different now? I was in hell. I had to escape and the only way I knew how to escape from anything was to take more drugs.
Goodbye Pete you sweet, sweet man. I will see you in Heaven one day I know. You and our unborn child .
Everything happens for a reason.?!
