I’m not giving him up. Not without a fight.
I’ve told my parents that I would break up with Raz if they objected, and my father has objected. Nothing, he said, would change his mind. Well, I’m going to try to change it.
Perhaps I’ll be going to hell for giving my parents grief. My father asked how I could even think of living with a man who doesn’t believe in the same God as I do. I should have told him: The same way you can do all the things you do and still have the gall to go to Church every Sunday. Apparently as long as you believe in God and follow a religion, you’re principled.
I’m not going to give Raz up without a fight. We shall see how this go. Anyone got a place for me to crash for a few days from Sunday? I’ll do my own laundry and stuff.
The person I’ll be hurting most is my mom and my grandmother. Sigh…
Does anyone wonder now why I hate religion, and especially those that try to impose RELIGIOUS rules on this country?
Edit: Oh, and a reason not to have a child:
Louis MacNeice- Prayer before Birth
I am not yet born; O hear me. Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the club-footed ghoul come near me. I am not yet born, console me. I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me, with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me, on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me. I am not yet born; provide me With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light in the back of my mind to guide me. I am not yet born; forgive me For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me, my treason engendered by traitors beyond me, my life when they murder by means of my hands, my death when they live me. I am not yet born; rehearse me In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white waves call me to folly and the desert calls me to doom and the beggar refuses my gift and my children curse me. I am not yet born; O hear me, Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God come near me. I am not yet born; O fill me With strength against those who would freeze my humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton, would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with one face, a thing, and against all those who would dissipate my entirety, would blow me like thistledown hither and thither or hither and thither like water held in the hands would spill me. Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me. Otherwise kill me.