When I found out that my girlfriend was pregnant, I was mortified. Utterly mortified. I mean, I remembered my parents, how they dealt with me as a child. How I was, and how I would deal with a child. She wanted to see what I wanted to do before she made a decision. It was clear she wanted to keep it, she had even gone clean to do so (after all, she always had more will power than me) but I was adamant. She needed to get an abortion, not give it up for adoption.
I didn't want a child in the world with my DNA, with my parents DNA. She was hurt and she was angry, but eventually she agreed.
My relationship with my girlfriend had been strained since I made her get the abortion. She said she'd leave me if I didn't get my act together and she tried to make me go clean. I tried, because I loved her and I didn't want to lose her.
I really did, but I was my parent's child through and through and eventually I caved. I found out she found my stash when I was showering and all of a sudden she flushed the toilet making the water go scalding.
I knew from her stance and her expression what she had done, and didn't even try to stop her when she left.