It’s not about getting a job, leaving your wild years behind you, and starting to do reasonable stuff. It’s not mortgages, f**king big TV’s or responsibility either. It’s about finding the strength to take an impossible choice, with no one to ask for the right answer. We talked about it for days. Yelled! Cried and got drunk. Cried and screamed some more! Nothing seemed to work. Talked about abortion, but we couldn’t end a life like that.
Talked about adoption, but we couldn’t bear the thought of giving away our baby. Even talked about keeping it, but we both knew we wasn’t ready.
And so she left. She had to go and think, but I didn’t know about what. All I knew, was I couldn’t go through with either of the alternatives we had, and I seriously considered packing a bag, getting on a flight to America and never turn my head back again, but I couldn’t leave neither of my babies like that either. So now I just sit here. Drinking, smoking and staring into the wall; and waiting for some peace of mind to come to me, so I can find the impossible answer to the impossible question.
The wall is white. What if I never grow up?
