The only thing that I had going for me, that most of the lads I knew who were in similar positions didn’t have, was the fact that the girl carrying my kid happened to be my best friend. In a way, that made her being pregnant significantly worse, because the guilt was so staggering. My conscience was weighing on me in a way that Dricko or any of the lads I knew with kids had never experienced. Because, for me, it wasn’t my future I was mourning. It was hers. Because I loved her. I loved her so fucking much that I let myself get reckless and ruin her.
