15May 1985
The image of how my life could have—would have been—hit me as soon as I was finishing reading the letter. She would've told me that she was pregnant. I would have freaked out for half a second and then figured it out the second after. I wouldn't have lived on campus. I'd have used the money I would've spent on a dorm and a meal plan and gotten an apartment, and she'd move in with me. She'd use her mother's money to go to all the doctor's appointments she'd need to. Nine months would pass in the span of a day, and she'd have blown up like a balloon, and the day would come that she would pop, and we'd rush to the hospital, and hours later, there would be a screaming, crying, messy wonder new to the world. And the doctor would look at that wonder and say it was a girl, and that li
