August 10th, 2036

Eros, today will break me.

I'm starting to show a little bit. A little over 4 months pregnant. You know, it strikes me as fucking ridiculous that a pregnant lady is not gonna have the most important of body parts after this kid is born. Her boobs. After I found out that Dr. Frank thought both needed to go, to be safe, I rescheduled my surgery. 3 days away and my womanhood will only show through this mutant growth protruding from within my uterus. I'm getting the chills just thinking about the rapid cell division happening inside me. I feel like a freak show already. Boobless and pregnant. Sounds like a bad, weird tranny porno or something. So bye bye boobies in 3 days. I can't wait...not.

I can't help but be bitter today. Its fucking hot out. The water ration is fucking annoying me. Frank is being extra attentive, knowing what today is, and thats annoying me, too. I want to drink a lot of alcohol and this little baby in my stomach is preventing me from doing that. "Please Mommy, I don't want Fetal Alcohol Syndrome! So please don't drink that whiskey". But I'm staring really hard at that whiskey. I love this little fucknugget too much to drink it. But I want it. And thats annoying me.

I wonder what he's doing with himself. If I weren't pregnant I'd be drinking myself into an oblivion. I imagine thats exactly what he's doing. He deserves it. I can't even think what other things he might be doing to forget this pain, but if I were him I'd grab me some prostitutes and get laid, drunk, and maybe high. But I'm pregnant. So I can't do that. I can get laid, but I'm pregnant and that just makes me not feel like it. WHICH IS ANNOYING ME. It's not Liam, anyway. Sex with anyone else is an incredulous thought. But I figure for him, at this point, he hates me so much that sex with everyone else is a way to get revenge. He deserves it. I can't even be mad in my imagination, because I know that even with all these imaginary hookers, Liam deserves whatever outlet he can find to feel better. Because I know he feels bad. And I know I did it. I want him to feel better, whatever it takes. Especially today.

6 years. 6 years we're married, today. He hasn't sent me divorce papers yet. I'm leaving that to him, though, because I figure if it were me I'd want to process, get angry, and mail those papers as a declaration. "You're a fucking bitch, Lynn. I hate you, you ruined everything. Die! Die! Die!". And I think he deserves that, too.

I just WISH so so much that he were here, today. More than any other day. Today I need my Liam. Who I guess is no longer mine. But I'm still his. And I really really really miss him. So much that I can feel it inside of me. Like a little bundle in the back of my head, pulsing.

-Lynn