Does He Even Remember Me?

That's a question I asked myself last night while trying to sleep.

I sometimes have dreams about getting back together with "Matt." Many times it comes to fruition. But then he disappears. Or one of us we will try to contact each other, yet missing a connection. We are never parents in any of the dreams. I never really gave much thought to any of these dreams, other than wonder where that came from after waking up.

Until last night. I was thinking about him. Thought about the good times and the bad times. And yes, there were good times. But does he remember any of them? Does he remember the woman he dated for a year and a half? Does he remember the woman whom he impregnated? Does he ever wonder if the child really was lost to miscarriage? Did he ever wonder if she was pregnant before breaking up with him? If he thought yes, did he wonder what happened to that child?

Does he even remember her name? Does he remember what she looks like? Does he remember that he was her first...everything?
I remember the first time he kissed me. I giggled. It was nothing against him. I wasn't laughing at him. I was almost twenty years old, and had never been kissed! Heck, I had never even dated anyone! It was a nervous reaction. I remember when he first told me he loved me. I just couldn't bring myself to say it back. He was rather offended by that. I wasn't sure if I did love him. I didn't know what love is. Perhaps I still don't. I did end up reciprocating the sentiment. But did I mean it? Did he mean it? I don't know. Perhaps, on both accounts.
I remember the first time he tried to have sex with me. I remember being swept away and taken in. Almost relenting. Then pulling back. I remember the first time of surrendering to him. The details of which would not be appropriate to speak of.

During the breakdown of 2014 I did check on Facebook to see if he had a profile set up. Not really that I wanted to reconnect, just checking to see if he was on there. What would I even say to him? Why would I tell him that I was contacting him after all this time? At that time he was in a relationship. He may or may not still be.

I have since found out that he now has a son. Doing the math, that son is less than a year younger than what Hanelore would be. Because I don't know the exact mathematics of that boy's birth month or even when Hanelore's due date would have been; I am not sure if "Matt" impregnated another woman towards the end of our relationship or soon after my breaking up with him.
There is a bit of hurt in that. Whether he was cheating on me or started a relationship soon after the break up. I can't help but wonder what was so special about the mother of his son that she was "allowed to" give birth to his child, but I wasn't. Did she have support from "Matt"? Did she have support from her family? Or was she stronger than me and stood up to them all? Is she the woman "Matt" is in a relationship with, or was recently? Does "Matt" look at his son and think that the son may or may not have a sister? Does he regret his non committal attitude toward my pregnancy with Anastasia? 

Dreams of my Daughters

In dreams I walk with you
In dreams I talk to you
In dreams you're mine
All of the time
We're together, in dreams, in dreams... 
...In beautiful dreams of you

In Dreams ~ Roy Orbison

I have been singing this song in my head for the past couple days.  This is the chorus to the Roy Orbison song In Dreams.  I am a huge fan of Roy Orbison.  I love his music.  So passionate, so melancholy, so deep.  Most of his songs can be sad, full of lovelorn, unrequited love and love lost.  But recently I have been attaching the melancholy of his music to the grief over the loss of my daughters, especially this song.

Listen to the full song;

See, the thing is, I may have only started writing of my experiences just less than a year ago.  I had my breakdown in February of 2014.  But even before that, was when I think the lead up to my grief, I was confronted with the memories of the abortion deaths of Anastasia and Hanelore.
About 7 or 8 years ago I had a dream.  I was in the waiting room of a doctor's office, health clinic or hospital or somewhere.  There were two preteen girls.  I think the modern word now is tween.  The taller one who looked like she may have been older spoke to me.  I am not sure why, or how the conversation started.  She told me they were waiting for their mother.  She left them there and hasn't come back for them.  I couldn't imagine why a mother would leave her children at a doctor's office, or anywhere for that matter.  The girls never told me how long they had been waiting.
The older taller girl had long dark brown wavy hair.  Wasn't too big or too small body wise.  Had somewhat of a curvy shape of a young lady developing.  She had beautiful clear blue eyes.  I couldn't completely make out her face.  Her younger sister had long straight light auburn hair with a slight strawberry blonde tint.  She was very slender and wispy.  As if a bit of a medieval look to her.  She too, though I could not make out her facial features, had beautiful clear blue eyes.
I woke up, trying to figure out who those girls were and why I would dream about them.  Then it dawned on me.  They were my daughters!  The daughters I ordered the killing of.  I hadn't thought about the abortions since then.  I had slightly remembered.  But I had so put everything out of my mind that it was almost to the point of forgetting about them.

I still do dream about them.  Sometimes they are very young girls. Sometimes they are the ages they would be had they been allowed to live.  But mostly I wake up knowing I dreamt about them without recalling the details.  All I have are dreams...