The pieces I remember make me look so bad to myself now. I see myself then, as someone who was too young and naive. But also as someone who didn’t care enough that I was ending a life because it didn’t fit right into mine. But, it wasn’t that. I was a person who didn’t know enough. When I made the appointment, the clinic said to ignore the protestors. And so I did. One of my greatest regrets is not hearing them because they knew more than I did. I am so full of saddness every day. It has been 20 something years since that day. After the procedure, I had the most intense week of my life which ended in doing the procedure again, because something went wrong. I still ask who that girl was, and pray I wasn’t as horrible as I think I was to make a decision as that. But then I remember about what I didn’t know. Its an endless cycle for me. I still don’t know how to forgive myself.