“I want to get a vasectomy”, the words came out bluntly.
I was frozen, speechless, and shocked by this confession, so abruptly.
We’d been fighting on and off for months over small things here and there.
Your gambling and anger, my jealously and despair.
We were strong for a while. It was love that much is true.
But I was aware it was crumbling. I could feel it inside you.
You shortened your tone, and affection was no longer shared.
I cried most nights and you called me crazy. I wondered if you even cared.
Then the conversation of our future happened to be the straw.
It broke me into pieces as I heard your honest thoughts.
“I can’t see us together five years down the road.”
“We can’t make each other happy.” It was too much to bare. I felt my heart explode.
You felt that I was rushing you for a a marriage and family, but I don’t.
So you threw it in my face admitting you couldn’t be a dad, and you won’t.
“We can still be friends,” you chimed after hours of reminiscing.
I really tried for a while but in my heart, your piece was still missing.