02.17.04 - 3:34 pm

as of today i have a seven month old son.

i know i have a son because sarah has told me. i know i have a son for certain because the southwest biotechnology and information center says that out of 15 tests, i had 15 genetic matches. meaning basically that because of the 99.967539415% match between me and ashtons DNA, i cant be excluded as the father.

i have a son and he is seven months old today.

my reaction to this information is relief. im glad that the wait is over. im glad the anticipation is over. im glad that i can look at sarah and know she was right, and my doubts were all in vain.

i had my doubts for relevant reasons, and i dont think i can be blamed.

but here it is, the rest of my life. i have a son. at 22. instead of 32. im now 10 years ahead of where i wanted to be. i now have to reschedule my life, and how im going to go about it. dont be surprised if i have a pessimistic outlook on the next ten years. i dont feel like im going to be able to accomplish what i wanted to. i now have the social stigma of a child out of wedlock. i now have a mental stigma of an unplanned child.

i sit and try to vanquish the emotionally draining feelings of disdain i have for sarah and the disappointment i feel for myself, but its impossible. theyre so easily triggered, and so difficult to hide. my feelings of remorse arent hidden for very long.

i can look at ashton, and all the wonderful things he does and is, and never have anything to say about his being here. him being here is not his fault.

but i will always look at sarah with resentment for the choice, the punishment she decided to inflict on me out of her own ignorance and arrogance. i sincerely hate the fact that i have a child. it bothers me such an incredible amount that the more i type of it, the more i think of it, the longer i could go on whining and complaining. evenually ill be able to say, wow, im glad i finally shut the fuck up. i was such a pussy back then. but trying to imagine myself getting to that point is difficult. if anything i can see myself merely doing a better job of masking my discomfort.

however, i can still smile and get excited about the endless possibilities of having a little boy to entertain. to follow around. to have follow me around. to play with. to travel with. to take to foreign countries and expose him to an infinite number of experiences.

if im on an island in the south pacific in 5 or 10 years, it would be wonderful to have my son come stay with me, and to show him what i do. whatever that is. if its scuba diving constantly, then ill take him down with me, and show him the beautiful things that his children more than likely wont get to enjoy. i have many aspirations for my son. but, for the several years until my dreams for ashton start, all i can imagine is discomfort, difficulty, jealousy, fear and aggrevation. i see my peers off enjoying life as bachelors or single women traveling, taking pictures, going to parties, clubs, working, doing as they please spending every penny they make on themselves. i see them passing me by and neglecting me because i wont always be able to travel on a whim. i wont always have the money to spend on things outside of ashton or sarah. i see myself falling behind helplessly as worldwide careers and education opertunities pass me by with diapers and a crying 2 year old in hand.

and then, i have sarah to look forward to for the rest of my life. if i can think of how happy i can be with her, this isnt so bad. but if remind myself how mixed up and confused and ridiculous she is and how she thinks and how she treats me, then its a long miserable relationship i see myself having with her during my life.

ashton, if you scrunch up your nose, and breath really hard, will copy you and do the same. when he does this, he doesnt laugh afterwards like he realizes how funny it is. instead, he just does it as an action, and contorts his face in such a terrible way that i cant stop laughing thinking about how hysterical it is. a little 7 month old face, all scrunched up into a demonic pose, just because he sees me or sarah do it. hes absolutely wonderful to watch. hes a baby. he cries. hes spoiled. but hes smart. and he puts up with a lot. he doesnt know much of what i think or what sarah thinks or what she or i do, but one day he will. hell get an idea.

and i really have no idea what to tell him when he asks me why.

its just the way it was.

or the way i thought it was when you were seven months old.