I can categorize my whole life as one big mistake. That's what all my decisions turned out to be after all.
Mistake number one- Dropped out of college to become an 'artist'.
Maybe it wouldn't have been such a big mistake if I had any talent. Maybe if I hadn't done it to spite my parents. Maybe if I hadn't ended up trying to sell my paintings at a gallery where she worked, which leads me to mistake number two.
Mistake number two- Claire.
Not that I didn't love her, I truthfully did. The laugh, the hair, the smile...she was the model for my painting of an angel.
It's a bad painting. Just like we were a bad couple. From the start things seemed to go down hill; her mother disowned her, I lost my part time job, we had unprotected sex.
Mistake number three- Unprotected sex.
That was actually the best sex we ever had. Seriously, I masturbate to the memory of it. It's the kind where all your senses are heightened and you can hear every little moan your partner makes, feel the movement of their body under yours, smell the sensation of having the body react to every fantasy fullfilled. Pure and utter ectasy. Of course, the result was mistake number four.
Mistake number four- Agreeing to have the baby.
Actually, 'agreeing' is a bad choice of words; I was the one that originally wanted to have it. Ideals of fatherhood, teaching the kid to play ball, being a better parent than my dad, all that crap just floated through my head pushing out reality. What was I, a jobless, uneducated 'artist', thinking?
Mistake number five- Walking out on her.
Reality caught up with me. Baby. Turns into toddler, turns into child, turns into adolescent, turns into adult. I would be responsible for raising that person. Caring for that person, making sure they had what they needed to turn out a half-way decent member of society.
No way in hell that was going to happen. I told her goodbye and split.
So, I'll admit to being a scumbag. Jerk, bastard, whatever. Whatever names Claire calls me I more than deserve. I heard she went to L.A. to give the baby up for adoption. I don't know what plane she went on so I don't know if it's the one that went down or not. I don't know who she was giving the baby up to. I don't know who is raising my kid.
So, there you go. My artist's heart and soul poured out on a blank page to soil the hearts and minds of whoever reads this. The musings of the biggest jerk on the planet.
I don't deserve it, but there's something I wouldn't mind knowing. I wonder who's raising my kid?
Lost and all its characters belong to ABC. Comments, crtiques, and death threats are accepted.
Next chapter- Liam!