Part One.


Father:  The man that I'm supposed to trust and love unconditionally. The man that is supposed to protect me from all my fears and support me in any way that he can. The man that is supposed to make me believe that I am beautiful, the most beautiful girl in the world. The first man I'm ever supposed to love.

Daddy, that isn't you.

I don't blame you. For so many years growing up I did. For so many years I thought it was your fault, that you did it on purpose. For so many years I had to battle with the idea of living with a stranger, a man that did not understand me, did not love me, did not want to protect me.  A man that I didn't trust, a man that didn't think I was beautiful.  This man was, however, the first man I ever loved.  This man was also the man that I love unconditionally.

This man was you, Daddy.

Through the years of silence I began to think I hated you. And all those hours you would scream I began to think I hated you. Living with you but never talking to you made me think I hated you. You were never there for anything. And I hated you for it. I had to realize that you would never be there. You weren't going to show up to the future birthday parties, funerals, graduations, and family functions. And you didn't. And I hated you for it. I hated knowing that although you were only in the other room, a few feet away from me, we still haven't spoken in weeks. I hated that I had to explain to people why you were never there. I hated that people never knew you.

I hated that while you were only inches from me you felt like you were miles away in another world.

I thought that you stopped loving me. That I wasn't good enough. I still remember being three years old running around in my underwear, climbing on you, laughing, while you were tickling me. I remember being the most amazing thing to you. I remember you holding me. I remember being perfect in your eyes. I thought it was all my fault. Then I realized that there's nothing wrong with me, so I started to blame you.

But it wasn't your fault.

Daddy, I've come to peace with the fact that we don't talk. And I understand that you just are the way you are. It's okay. There's nothing wrong with you. All those years I thought I hated you, I really hated myself for not being close to you. I hated the silence, and the screaming, and the distance. And I still do. I'll never stop hating it. I'll never stop hating everything that we are.  And although I'll never say it to you, and although you'll never say it back:

I love you, Daddy.

My boyfriend and I have been together for 3 years now and so far things have been as wonderful as they can be when you're still in high school. We've both been extremely happy, honest, and open with each other until recently (as in 3 months ago.) You see my boyfriend and I had to deal with that horrible problem that is plaguing couples all over the world; cheating. Here's what happened.

Around four months ago a rumor started about me and a good male friend I've had since kindergarten. I wish I could tell you how it started but it is after all high school and what better things to kids have to do these days anyway? Anyway, the rumor went around that I was secretly meeting up with my male friend and we were "fooling around." Of course my boyfriend got worried and upset and confronted me about it. And of course this was the first time I heard of said rumor. Anyway, the boyfriend and I worked things out and he said he believed me and blah blah blah, things were fine again. I stopped being friends with my friend out of respect to my boyfriend and whatever, it was done with.

Now flash forward to a month later. The rumor is long gone by now because like I said, I'm in high school, so there's now some ridiculous rumor about someone else circulating the school. Things seemed fine between my boyfriend and I until one day things got really weird. The boyfriend said he needed a break cause he was really hurt. Instead of wanting to talk about it like he usually did, he wanted to just give up. However, the next day I saw him walking with a girl *cough town slut cough*. I confronted him about it and he said it was nothing. So then I confronted her about it and found out a whole different story. It turns out he had been texting and calling her while we were together asking her to hangout and hookup. He also told her that he didn't want to be with me anymore and wanted to be with her. Furious and heartbroken, I confronted him and totally blew his spot. I told him everything I heard and basically ended things with him.

To make a long story short he apologized, begged for my forgiveness, and promised to change. Two weeks later we got back together and now things are better than they were before. However, this isn't about my relationship, him being a total ass, or me being stupid for taking him back and all that fun stuff in between. Instead, I'd like to point out that while he never actually got with her and was only planning on cheating on me, he never did it. So, my question to you is how far can you go before you cross the line of cheating? Is talking to another girl/boy cheating? Is planning to cheat actually cheating? Or is it not cheating until you actually act on it?

I recently read an article about a mother with two sons; Henry, the oldest, has a rare genetic disease that would result in leukemia and cancer while Jack, the youngest, is healthy.  The article isn't about sibling rivalry but instead saving her child's life.  Although Jack is healthy, he isn't a genetic match to Henry.  The doctors give her options, one of which being to select embryos that did not have the disease but would also be a genetic match to Henry and conceive via in vitro fertilization.  Unsuccessful the first time, Laurie (the mother), tried again eight more times but was unsuccessful with all attempts.  Finally, Laurie conceives another healthy boy, Joe, naturally, but he is not a genetic match either.

For any of you that may have read "My Sister's Keeper" by Jodi Picoult this may seem very familiar.  This is probably because the book was written after Laurie initially wrote to the New York Times.  In Picoult's book the oldest daughter is diagnosed with leukemia.  Her younger brother is healthy but not a match and her parents aren't a match either.  The family then decides to try in vitro fertilization, which is successful, resulting in another daughter being born.  The whole story is focused on each character's struggles surrounding their sick daughter/sister and how the youngest daughter feels neglected and doesn't want to just be her sister's donor anymore. The middle child feels neglected because he can't help out his older sister and his family is always focused on her well being.  The oldest daughter feels guilt for making her family suffer.  Both parents struggle with the fact that their daughter is dying, their son is a rebellious trouble maker, and their youngest daughter doesn't want to save her sister's life.

As you can guess, this is a very controversial topic. Honestly, I can't even begin to imagine what I would do.  While I would want to do anything for my son/daughter I'm not too sure how my child would feel knowing that they were only thought of in order to save their brother's/sister's life. So my question to you is: Do you believe in conceiving another child in order to save one you've had before? Why or why not? If you were put in this situation which would you choose?