FancySometimes, I think, or maybefancy is the right word - thatI can feel you thinkingabout me.Those dayswhen all the songs I hear singin those long-gone voices oftwo kids who knew more about feelingthan living.Nights when "we" is a weighton my stomach, that placeright at the top. Where you would rest yourhead, stare into my eyes, handon my shoulder, touch me insideand out.Years when you nevercame to mind. Or so I told myself, pushingdown dreams where you left me againand again.Sometimes I think, or maybefancy -sometimes.
Baylee's StoryI never thought I would actually write about this. For all these years, it's been something I've only shared with my closest friends - partly because it can still choke me up, and I don't like crying in front of people I don't know very well. But I read a similar story last night, then re-read it this morning, and it occurred to me that medically necessary abortions may be more common than the "Pro-Liars" would have you believe - and maybe, just maybe, if a few more of these stories were talked about, someone might finally get a clue.Given that group's "I'll only listen to points of view that support my own" mindset, I doubt it, but what the hell, it's worth a shot.I would like to say straight off that in this case it was not necessary - but it was discussed as something that may have become necessary, and the way it was presented is pretty much the whole point of this public up-chucking of my personal business.In the latter half of 1995, I became pregnant for t