I have always wanted kids, but I knew that this wasn’t how I wanted to become a mother. After an agonizing day, spent crying on my couch talking to my closest friend, I woke up the next morning feeling clarity, knowing that I was going to have an abortion. While I cannot even put into words the anguish that came along with this choice (as my mother simply put it: “It’s a lot to give up”) it was, in the end, a pretty clear decision for me. What was not as clear a decision, and something that has proven to be the most complex thing to navigate, has been my decision to not tell the guy. We had been having casual sex on and off for months now going on a year. He would call when he got back in town and we would pick up where we left off. When I found out I was pregnant, he was back at home, with no real return date. We didn’t, and don’t, keep in touch much when he’s home. I spent days agonizing about whether or not to involve him, but after talking to a friend I decided I wouldn’t. But as time has passed, I’m haunted by thoughts of him. I have nightmares where he comes back into town and texts me wanting to have sex and I am screaming at him cause I’m bothered by the decision i made by myself. At first, I felt OK with my decision not to tell him i knew having an abortion was the right choice for me. Immediately after, I was consumed with (irrational) anger at him. He was home , oblivious, and I was here in pain, sad, and bleeding. I know some people might think I’m a horrible person for not telling him. And some will say I shouldn’t even acknowledge him, that it’s my body and it’s my choice. I see both sides. Having a baby would have changed my entire world. Mine, not his. So yes, it is my choice. But that doesn’t make it feel any better.