When I was thirteen, I got a letter in the mail. It was the scariest moment I had experienced in a long time, and I haven't experienced many things scarier than that since. I didn't get a spooky letter comprised of a piece of paper with magazine letters cut out and pasted onto it, threatening me with a haunting or murder if I don't come to the cemetery at midnight on Halloween, and it wasn't my phone bill after I went over my data limit… it was a letter from a dad. I read it over and over, on the one hand I was terrified and on the other I was a little hopeful. I was terrified because he knew where I lived, because of what the letter said, because now he knew how to contact me… But I was hopeful because deep down I still wanted him to love me despite what he did to me and how I felt, and still feel, about him. I pushed it down to the back of my bottom bedside table drawer, the one filled with a dozen pairs of underwear that no one would ever dig through.

I dig through the bottom draw, scattering underpants all over the floor. I haven't touched this note in over a year, if it's not in here, someone else has it and if someone else has it I'll- Oh. Here it is. It's crumbled and wrinkled quite a bit, but it's here. I unfold the note and stare down at the handwriting that I've studied and read over a thousand times, it's like I can feel the energy that he's left imprinted on the paper. It sounds stupid, but I'm sure that metaphysical feelings count for something, right? It brings back that feeling of hope… until I remember how terrified I am of him. Secretly, the fear I first had when I received that letter has never really gone away, and now it's slowly nearing the ten year mark and- I don't want to think about that. I look down at the slightly smudged ink and scan over it again, reliving the same experience as the first time I read it.

Dear Danny,
Happy Thirteenth Birthday! Your mother didn't tell me you moved so it's her fault I haven't been able to contact you before. She just wants to keep us apart but we'll be together again soon. I miss you, and I know you love your daddy best.
Lot of love, Dad.

Needless to say, we weren't together again soon. It's only short, but it's something.
"Dan?" PJ knocks on my bedroom door before opening it and I quickly shove the letter back into the drawer and start picking up the items of underclothing I tossed onto the floor earlier, "What are you doing?" he laughs.
"Just tidying," I smile and push the drawer shut. It's been a couple of weeks since I freaked out and 'ran away', he slept in my bed that night and when I slept at Phil's the next he called both of us about five times each to make sure I was still there and okay. Things are a lot more normal now.

"I need to tell you something," he says, plopping himself down on my bed, "Sarah asked me out today…"
"Oh?"
"I said no," he tells me quickly,
"I'd hope so because she is… she sure is something," I say, "You don't have to say no because of me though, if you've fallen head first out of a tree and now you like her, who am I to stand in the way of… love?"
"I don't like her," he says, letting out a small chortle at my comment, "I don't want to go out with her, I just thought I'd tell you. Are you staying at Phil's tonight?"
"Yeah," I grin stupidly, "He says he's got a present for me,"
"I'm surprised that mum is letting you stay over the night before your birthday," he chuckles, "She won't be able to wake you up with presents. Do you think she'll give them to me instead?" he laughs louder.
"Shut up," I giggle, "I think I'd rather wake up to Phil than mum."

"How're things with Phil anyway?"
"I love him, Peej," I scrunch my face up in an embarrassed smile, "With everything that's been going on I haven't been able to focus on him a lot, but things are looking better,"
"Are they?" he asks. Silence.
"Some problems don't just go away…" I breathe. He knows that something's up and that I still haven't told him. I feel like I really don't give him enough credit. We've been dancing around this subject for too long.
"Dan, what happened?" he asks, running his hand through his hair, "Who… hurt you?" I open my mouth to object but he beats me to it, "Please, Dan…"
"Can we discuss this later? I can't- I can't talk about it…" I sigh, essentially giving in, "Can we talk about something else?"
"Alright," he resigns, "Phil told me that Chris is sorting things out with you guys. I haven't spoken to him since his outburst,"
"Yeah, he says he was a complete asshole and didn't handle it well, he spoke to Phil and cleared some more stuff up. He's really sorry," I say,
"Good, what he said really made me feel sick," PJ says, and I nod, "As long as he means his apologies."

A few more brief words with PJ, a text message and a phone call to Jamie, and a hug from mum later, I'm out the door and on my way to Phil's house. Jamie didn't want to tell Peej and mum, but I told him that I can't live with secrets like that anymore but I also can't tell them myself. He's going to talk to them tonight while I'm at Phil's, sounds like a great Friday night for them all. I round the corner into Phil's street and see him standing at his mailbox waiting for me, he smiles when he sees me and wraps his arms around my neck the second I'm close enough for him to reach for me. He squeezes me tightly and whispers how much he's missed me in my ear before leading me inside and pushing me onto the couch where climbs on top of me and kisses me passionately. I grin into the kiss and Phil pulls away and helps me sit up so that he can hold me.

Phil is so upbeat all the time, minus the few times I've kind of scared him, but even still, he's positive. You wouldn't know that his family is estranged, you wouldn't know that he suffers from anxiety – he's really incredible. I wish I could be as brave as him.
"Phil?" I ask, and he turns to me with a smile, "Why do you like me? I mean, I'm just… whatever the hell I am. Unimpressive, awkward-"
"Dan, stop," he interrupts me with a slight frown, "I like you because you're adorable, and because you're awkward, and because you're sweet and cuddly. You're strong, and you're making a conscious effort to better yourself," he sweeps my fringe from my eyes and looks lovingly into them, "You're wonderful, Dan. And I love you."
"I love you too, but…"
"But what, bear?" he searches my eyes for an answer and I meet his darting pupils with a begrudging stare, steadying his gaze.

He thinks I'm all these things that I'm not. He loves me for things that I simply am not.
"Phil," I answer him, my voice hushed to soften the blow of disappointment that he's about to receive, "I'm- I'm not all of those things. I'm not strong, Phil…"
"I know that you are, please don't tell yourself that you're not," he sighs, running his hand over mine before clasping it gently,
"I'm not strong," I whisper, "I'm not. Phil… I tried to kill myself, that's not strong."
"You… you what?" he looks at me through wide, blinking eyes, and his grip on my hand tightens,
"I took the entire bottle of sleeping pills I had in my room," I tell him, not daring to look up because I don't want him to see me, not now, not when I'm about to cry. He's quiet. All I can hear is his breathing, "I swallowed them all when I was sort of… breaking down. I passed out and PJ found me. I think I traumatised him."

"Dan…" Phil breathes, "Dan, you're still here, okay? You're still here and you're with me, and… I love you."
"You don't think that I'm messed up?"
"I know you struggle with a few things, I know that, I've always known that," he tells me seriously, pushing my head up with two fingers under my chin so that I'm forced to look at him, "Everyone has issues."
"Phil, I'm really messed up…"
"Angel, I'm here for you, alright? I love you, and I love being with you. If you ever want to talk to me about anything you can and you can rest assured that no matter what it is, I'm still going to love you."
"Thanks…" I say, cuddling into his side and feeling his hands in my hair, "I love you too."
"Promise me something?"
"Yeah?"
"If you're ever thinking about hurting yourself or, um, killing yourself again… call me, or if not me, somebody, okay?"
"I'll do everything in my power to uphold that promise," I say, my voice unwavering because I really do mean it.

Phil looks really hot before bed. His hair all tousled from laying with my on his couch, his body bare – with the exception of his boxer briefs – and his smile all sleepy. He's all cuddly at night too, his personality at it's sweetest. A few times when we've been about to go to sleep he would spout out something about how he thinks that dogs are majestic creatures that deserve to rule the world, and then follow it up with something completely contradictory like, "Pugs are so small and scared… we need to protect them…" before rolling over, pulling me closer and kissing me all over my face. He does lots of really cute things. He makes me want him in ways that I never thought I'd want someone. I want him to kiss me, to get on top of me and taste my tonsils, to pin me to his bed and grind against me, to kiss all down my body, undo my pants and-

"What're you thinking about?" Phil asks, interfering with what was becoming a very pleasant train of thought,
"You," I sigh with a smile, biting my lip and wishing it was his teeth teasing my mouth,
"Mmm, really?" he smirks.
"Yes, really," I giggle, and he moves across the room to his bed where I'm lying and grips the hem of my shirt before lifting it up off of my body.
"Mmm, kitten, you're really gorgeous," Phil winks with a smile, "And what's this?" he runs his hand between my legs. How did he notice how hard I was before I did?
"Like I said, I was thinking about you," I chuckle, "Sorry…" He lays down on the bed beside me, his hand resting on my stomach and his thumb mindlessly tracing my belly button,
"You can say no," he begins, and I look at him properly, "Can I?" he asks, the tips of his fingers playing with the waistband of my underwear.

I'm scared. I've never been in this position; I've never wanted it before, and I've never had the option of consent. I swallow and hesitate for a short, very brief, moment, and then I nod, delving into a very new and scarily exciting experience. It'll be okay. It's Phil. I trust Phil, and I love Phil. Phil doesn't want to hurt me. He'll stop if I tell him to. He won't hate me if I need him to stop. It'll be fine. Phil loves me, and Phil cares about me.
"You're sure?" he asks me, and I smile,
"Yeah." I answer breathily, and he watches my face as his hand slowly dips into my underwear, and I suck in a deep, shuddery inhalation as his hand grazes my arousal. He chuckles gently and kisses the high of my cheek, and suddenly his fingers and his hand are wrapped around my shaft, deliberately tugging and flicking his wrist slowly to stimulate me further. I let out a shaky breath as he continues, and he whispers dirty, sexy things in my ear, it's quite possibly the best thing I have ever felt.

"Phil," I gasp, "St-stop," he stops his actions and his hand retreats immediately, and I can't help but smile because he listened. He actually listened to me! I grin at him and climb on top of him, kissing him passionately and letting out a little moan into his mouth, his hands roam my bare skin and little goose-bumps erupt wherever his flesh touches mine. It's tingly and it's warm, but it's also cool and wonderful. I move just a little and our members are pushed against each other, the friction working for us with every wiggle, movement or otherwise. I can feel how flushed my cheeks are, and I smile into the kiss before staring into the pools of cerulescent bliss that are his eyes. The kissing, the roaming, the gripping and the movement intensify, it's all slowly blooming into something else entirely. It's more than it's ever been before between Phil and I, and I like it. Part of me wants it to never stop, but another part of me is still scared and uneasy.

He pushes me onto my side next to him and I slip my leg between his, feeling him against me. He pushes my hair back and moves to kiss my cheek,
"You're so beautiful…" he whispers, and my breath hitches and I freeze. All I can see is my dad, so I force my eyes open, but the image of him and the flashes of the things he did to me aren't going away. They're still blinking in my mind, I shake my head but nothing changes. I think Phil's saying something, but all I can hear is my father's voice,
"You're so beautiful, Danny…"
I push him away, tearing myself from him as I scramble from the bed with tears in my eyes and try to pull on my pants as quickly as possible before running out the door and eventually finding myself outside.
"Good boy, Daniel… Just like that."
I shake my head to be rid of the voice and I shiver a little at the early night air, quickly pulling on my t-shirt and only just noticing that I've left my jacket and shoes inside, but I don't care.

I continue running down the street, I want to go home, but what if I shouldn't? What do I do? What happened? Oh, no. Phil. Oh god. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Um, um… I should just go home. I wipe my face and things are a little less blurry. I round the corner into my street and when I'm about three houses down from my house I stop. I can't move. I watch as the outside light flicks on and my front door opens, PJ walks outside and looks around before spotting me and running over.
"Phil just called me, are you okay? What happened?" he pants, and scans my clearly distressed face, but I don't answer him. I just let out a whimper and fall to my knees on the grass, hands covering my face as I start to cry. It's probably the most pathetic sight in the world.
"Dan," PJ's voice continues, "Dan, what do I do?"
"Phil's going to hate me…" I sob, but PJ takes my hand and slowly eases me up,
"No, he doesn't hate you. He's just worried and wants to know that you're alright, he's not angry at all," Peej assures me.

I breathe in and nod, allowing him to lead me home and bring me upstairs. He sits next to me on my bed and I look at him,
"What happened?" PJ asks,
"Phil and I… we were…" I start, but I don't know how to finish so I flounder for a moment, "Things go kind of… heated."
"Did he do something? Did he pressure you?" PJ looks at me with wide eyes full of concern,
"No, he didn't… He stopped when I told him t-to, but um…" I take in a deep breath again and swallow the bile that's threatening to taint my palette, "I started seeing my dad… hearing his voice… it was all happening again…" I squeak. Silence.
"What do you- what do you mean?" PJ breaks the quiet of the room,
"Peej," I cry breathily, "M-my dad… h-he- h-he raped me…"

PJ was shaken. Shocked. He even cried. He tried to convince me to tell my mum and Jamie, but I told him that Jamie already knows, which shocked him even further. I couldn't tell him anymore than that. He probably wanted more details, something a little more than a single shaken sentence. I called Phil last night and apologised too, Peej was right when he said that Phil wasn't mad, instead he was as lovely and incredible as always, so I wandered back over to his house and by ten in the evening I felt okay again and was cuddled up into him. I didn't tell him what happened. I just told him that I freaked out and he accepted it, telling me that I never have to do anything that I don't want to and that he'll never be upset at me for my decision, essentially reminding me of how incredible he is. I open my eyes and shuffle closer to him, stroking his arm gently and whisper good morning as my eyes adjust to the daylight.

"Happy birthday," Phil says, rolling over with a smile, the morning sun highlighting the cobalt colour of his eyes, "Do you feel old?"
"Not really," I chuckle sleepily,
"You should. You're old now."
"Phil, you're still older than me," I laugh, "So you're old."
"You're seventeen now, childish arguments like that just aren't acceptable anymore," he jokes, "I have something for you," he beams and kisses my cheek.
"You didn't have to get me anything…" I blush,
"No, I did," he says, handing me a rectangular, lavender box with a blue, lace ribbon tied around it. I tug the smallest end of the bow and it unravels, falling daintily onto the bed as I open the box. Inside is a beautiful brown teddy bear, no longer than my forearm, it's simple in appearance yet there's something so special and remarkable about it.

"It reminded me of you," Phil turns to me again and says, "I know it seems very basic and like I probably just picked it up off the shelf at the shop at the last minute, but honestly, it's notable and really stood out…"
"No," I exhale, "He's absolutely lovely," I grin cheekily. I reach up at him with grabby hands and he leans down to hug me, the bear in the box safely on my lap, "He's perfect, and look! He's got a little bowtie!"
"I'm glad you like it," he chuckles,
"Thank you…"
"You're very welcome," he beams and pokes the dimple in my cheek as I smile back at him, "You sure are cute."
"Shut up," I giggle,
"Your phone went off about four times while you were sleeping,"
"You were awake before me?"
"I'm always awake before you," he tells me.

I pick up my phone and scroll through my messages, one from mum, one from Jamie, one from PJ, one from Chris and one from an unknown number, all wishing me a happy birthday. I quickly call Jamie to let him know I'll be home soon and then I turn my sights to Phil and laugh,
"Apparently you can't count because it went off five times, not four," I say smugly.
"I said about four times," he laughs, "Do you want food before you have to go?"
"You're kicking me out?" I pout, "And here I was thinking that you loved me,"
"I don't think I'll be allowed to love you anymore if I keep you here forever, your parents would take you away and lock you in a tower and I'll probably die trying to fight the dragon to get to you."
"That is very true," I nod, "But no, I don't need food. I'll just eat nothing but birthday food all day because I enjoy making such bad health choices." Phil nods and kisses me on the cheek before pecking me on the lips with a small hum of agreement.

Phil kisses me for the millionth time, wishes me a happy birthday, tells me he loves me and to have a great day as I exit his house and begin walking down the street back home. I'm about halfway there when a voice calls out to me from across the road, the man is too far away for me to hear him and I guess he's figured that out because he's jogging across the road, stopping in front of me.
"I'm glad I spotted you," he says, and he looks familiar, and I know that I know him but my mind just refuses to put a name to his face, but I guess my mouth just does it for me because before I can stop myself, it's moving,

"Dad…"
"It's the eleventh of June! Happy birthday, Danny!" he smiles, "Seventeen, huh? Have you missed me?"
"Not particularly," I answer quietly, gripping the strap of my backpack tightly with one hand and reaching into my jacket pocket and unlocking my phone, pressing around the screen in hopes that it'll dial someone, anyone, because I am genuinely scared.
"Aw, don't be like that, come on! You've always loved your dad, you were always a daddy's boy, doing whatever it took to please your old dad, huh?"
"Um, I just want to go home…" I say with a slight mustering of the smallest amount of courage I've ever exuded,
"Why? To see your mother and her new victim?" he rolls his eyes, "You like your new dad better than me?"
"I'm gonna go now," I say softly, gesturing in the general direction of my house.

"You wanna go home, Danny?" he asks sickly, but before I can answer he grabs me roughly by the arm, and it hurts. He squeezes tightly as he drags me, he's a lot stronger than I am and my attempts to struggle and fight back are useless, "I'll take you home, then."
He throws me into the back of a powdery-blue sedan, it looks like it really needs a new coat of paint, and it's probably older than I am. He lets go of my arm to shut the door and I make another effort to escape, but despite my kicking legs and flailing arms, it's no use. The door shuts, but the child-lock function must be on because it won't open, I open my mouth and scream, shouting for anyone to help me, and he seems to change his mind about his course of action. He opens the car door again and I'm forced to clamber back, pushing myself up uncomfortably against the other back door as he climbs in after me and drags me down a little, his foot keeping the door he's leaning through open slightly so that he's not trapped in the back too.

His lips make contact with mine, and I try to push him away, but he holds me down by my hip and my shoulder. I purse my lips, tightening them that it's impossible for his tongue to access my mouth, to violate my further. This can't be happening. I don't want this to happen, I want it to stop. I can feel the tears escaping my eyes and I can feel his hand breaching the boundary of my pants, touching me… I scream out again, but his hand jumps from my shoulder to cover my mouth, and I realise that he's been talking the entire time.
"Shhh, Daniel," he says, "You like it, remember?"
But I don't like it! His hand moves out of my underwear, he's probably very satisfied with himself because he's managed to get me hard. His lips trail down my neck and I scream again as he sucks one, two, three bruises into my flesh, but suddenly it stops.

It all stops and he's shouting something as he gets further away from me until he's out of the car completely. There's a loud smack from outside the car, followed by another accompanied by an even louder, slightly grotesque, cracking sound. And dad's on the ground. I pull my knees up against my chest, my back pushing against the other door, the handles digging into me. Then there's another, different, familiar voice.
"Dan?" Jamie's voice enters my ears and I internally sigh a sigh a relief, "Dan, are you okay?" There's another thud from outside as Jamie's foot slams down against dad's ribs, keeping him on the ground. I don't move. I don't say a single thing.

Within ten minutes the police have arrived, but I still don't move. Jamie's outside and I can hear him talking to them, through the back window I can see dad being moved into an ambulance that I wasn't aware had even arrived until now, a female officer hand-cuffing him to the metal bar of the stretcher bed.
"I've got all of the audio from the phone call I received, I can transfer it for you guys at the station," I hear Jamie telling the officers outside the car,
"May I ask how you knew to record the phone call, or why you recorded it?" a male police officer asks,
"I have the software on my phone from work, just in case there's an incident with a client," he responds,
"And what do you do for work, Mr Liguori?"
"I'm a social worker, I specify in youth work," he answers before the same woman that cuffed my dad to the stretcher is at the door of the car.

"Hi, Daniel," she says, "My name's Angela, your step-dad is just outside talking to my partner and I just wanted you to know that the man that attacked you today has been arrested and we're going to make sure that he never comes near you again, alright?"
"Did he… Did he s-say anything?" I ask softly, and she nods,
"He said that he loves you and that he's entitled to you, but that's not true. He's not entitled to you in any way, shape, or form."
"He's my dad…" I sniffle, "He's going to come back…"
"We're not going to let that happen, alright? You're safe now," she tells me, "Would you like to come out, your step-dad probably wants to make sure you're okay," she smiles.

I nod slightly and begin to climb out of the car, the second my feet are on the ground I adjust my pants, pulling them up completely and within seconds Jamie's arms are around me.
"Are you alright?" he asks, "Did what did he do to you? Did he hurt you?"
"I'm alright," I say, standing on shaky legs,
"I'm sorry, Dan… I'm so sorry…"
"No, it's- um, it's fine."
"No, it's not fine, Dan," he says, holding me tighter to him, "I'm so sorry I let this happen…"
"It's not your fault…" I tell him,
"I know," he sighs, pulling us apart and running a hand through his brown hair, "We have to go the police station, I know it's hard, but they need statements," he tells me.
"Yeah, I figured," I say,
"Before we go, I need to ask you something, and it's going to be uncomfortable…" I nod and he continues, "Today, did he penetrate you in anyway, or were there any… fluids or anything like that?"

I shake my head, "No," and he nods,
"Alright, good," he says, swallowing, he looks like he's going to cry. "We just need to head down and give the statement,"
"What for?" I ask, and he looks at me a little shocked,
"Dan, that was sexual assault."
"He didn't 'penetrate' me," I say weakly, "He didn't rape me. Not this time…"
"It's still sexual assault, and what he did to you is very, very wrong," he says sternly,
"But…" a wave of guilt and disgust washes over me and all I want to do is die, "Jamie, I… I think I wanted it."
"I heard everything Dan, I know you didn't. I know you said no, and I know you screamed, and I know you did everything that you could to try to get away from him," Jamie says very intently, and I want to believe it, but I can't.
"I was… I w-was hard…"
"That's normal, alright? It's a natural reaction that the body has and it's not your fault, and it certainly does not mean that you wanted it, do you understand me?" he looks at me for a second and I nod, but I don't believe him.

After a long and generally unpleasant morning, Jamie and I step through the threshold of the front door, immediately greeted by mum and PJ. Mum's face looks like a mixture of worry and angry, Peej looks more concerned and curious than anything else.
"Where have you two been?!" she begins, "Daniel, you called Jamie four hours ago to say you were on your way home, and then never showed up! And you," she turns to Jamie, "We're in the middle of breakfast, you get a phone call and take off with not so much as a good bye, let alone an explanation, and you're gone for hours! Jamie, what the hell happened to your hand?! I tried calling you both at least a dozen times, PJ too! We were worried sick!" She sets her sights on me again, "PJ even called your boyfriend, he said that you'd left right when you said you would! Where the hell were you!?"

"Honey," Jamie begins, "I'm so sorry you were worried, but when Dan called there was a real emergency and-"
"That was Dan? What happened!?"
"Mum…" I say, "I'm really sorry…"
"Nathan showed up," Jamie says quietly in reference to my dad, placing his hand on my shoulder, "He attacked Dan."
Mum sits down on the couch, chewing her lip nervously and shaking her head.
"Daniel, are you okay, baby? What happened?" she asks, she doesn't sound angry anymore,
"Honey," Jamie takes over, noticing how uncomfortable I am and remembering our drive home when I asked him to do all the talking, "I think we need to have a conversation in private," he takes mum's hand and looks at me, "Do you wanna go upstairs for a bit?" I nod and quickly hug mum before hurrying up the stairs with PJ following closely behind.

"What happened?" PJ asks as I take a seat cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom, "Are you alright?"
"My dad…" I swallow, "He um, he confronted me on my way home. He um, he forced me into his car," I begin to recount for the third time today, "And he… tried to…"
"Oh my god, Dan! Are you alright!?"
"Yeah," I breathe, "I'm um- I'm okay."
"What happened with my dad?" he asks,
"Jamie pulled him away from me and hit him, he broke his nose and knocked out one of his teeth," and I can't help but smile for two reasons; My dad was injured and Jamie is the least violent person on this earth, "Oh, and when my dad tried to get up, Jamie stamped on his chest and bruised his ribs. Dad's in hospital now, but he's also under arrest."
"My dad did that?" PJ asks sceptically,
"He did," I grin, "Your dad is the greatest person I know. We had to spend some time at the police station with statements and everything."

"Fun birthday," PJ murmurs, "I'm sorry all of this happened…"
"It couldn't be helped," I say, "Your dad is telling mum now and I'm really scared."
"She'll be okay," PJ smiles, "My dad really loves you too, so much, so everyone's here for you."
"Yeah…" I sigh, "So um, how long do you think it'll be before mum comes-" And as soon as the words leave my mouth, mum is rushing into the room and throwing her arms around me, kissing my temple.
"Baby, I am so sorry," she sobs, "I am so sorry I didn't know, I'm so sorry I didn't stop it, oh my god… Daniel, I love you so much. How could I have let this happen?"

"It's not your fault…" I whisper into her shoulder, and PJ taps me on the shoulder as he leaves us alone.
"I should've known…"
"No, mum. He made sure you didn't know," I tell her, "He did everything he could to make sure no one would find out, especially you."
"Jamie told me everything you've told him, about when it started and what he did to you, and…" she chokes a little on her words and her tears as she cries. She doesn't deserve this. I wish I could have stopped it all so that she wouldn't have to know this, so that she wouldn't feel responsible, so that she could just go about life and enjoy all the good things, like being with Jamie, and being pregnant. It's not fair.