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I have always been an independent girl. That doesn't say much, since I am only 20. My story starts when I was 15 and met a boy that in just a matter of months went from being "eye candy" to what I thought was the love of my life. I'll call this boy James. He was a year younger than me, but I didn't care because he had an "I'm going to do it my way" kind of attitude.

James was my first boyfriend, first kiss, first everything. I would have never been considered a prude growing up, but I was terrified of getting intimate with the opposite sex. In fact, the first time he tried to get me to even touch his privates, I broke up with him. Obviously, we got back together and soon enough I felt comfortable enough to start doing everything. Soon, I found myself attached to James and walking on thin ice around him, trying to not do anything or say anything that would make me want to leave. James cheated on me, verbally and physically abused me, turned me against my family, yet I was so in love that I would do anything for this boy.

I lost my virginity to him just six months after we started dating and we continued to have sex almost every week. Over the next three years, I snuck out of my house, skipped school, and basically lost my dignity just to be able to have sex when he wanted to. Looking back, I feel like such a dirty idiot, but I was blinded.

The summer before my senior year, my family took a vacation to visit relatives in Ohio. I started feeling sluggish and having cravings for the weirdest things. My grandma noticed a difference in me, but at the time I didn't even know people were watching me. I missed my period and it was on that summer vacation I found out I was pregnant. I wasn't surprised. It was bound to happen and James promised that me if it ever did, we would get married and handle it. That wasn't the case.

My family got back and even though I worked so hard to keep it from all of them, they all had talked about it and knew. At this point, I was so scared to tell my parents, but most of all, I was scared of losing James. James told me that if I didn't have an abortion, he would kill himself, because he couldn't live with the humiliation of being a teenage father. He also convinced me that my family would disown me and there would be no way we could take care of the baby. He told me that if I went through with the abortion, it would just be the two of us. FOREVER. Oh, I should also mention that I grew up in a Christian home and I was against abortion.

To make a long story short, I went through with the abortion. It was the worst experience I ever had. In the end, James left me and I had to find out from myspace that the real reason he had wanted an abortion was so that he could keep dating this other girl.

The next few weeks were awful. I cried and cried every day at school. And it was my senior year! I thought of killing myself numerous times because I had killed my baby and the man I did it for didn't really care for me at all. The worst was finding out that my family had known and were ready to support me. They were just waiting for me to tell them.

It's been two years and I still cry and think about the decisions I've made. I cannot complain about the life I've lived since. I left my hometown for an amazing school where my future is set. Sure, if I had the baby, I would probably still be living with my parents and I would have never experienced everything I have experienced. I can't ask for any more. I am living my dreams-- playing college tennis, always having money in my pocket, traveling to places like Miami.

But I would give it all up if I could go back in time and make my own decision and have my baby. I look at my godson who was born around the same time that my child should have been born, and my heart goes out to the son/daughter I should have had. I see families and teenage mothers and I sometimes feel jealous and always admire them for their decision. I should feel lucky and blessed to be living the life I have with all its opportunities, but the truth is I don't. That's my story.