Mr. X and I are both science minded individuals.
So our breakfast conversations can be quite nerdy.
Yesterday morning, we started talking about cloning.
He had read a story about some new experiments with it.
We were sharing our thoughts about the subject.
I would like to assume everyone thinks about this to some degree.
I would like to assume everyone who has lost someone dreams of this.
I would like to assume every widow lusts about this.
Because I definitely think about it.
I wonder what if.
If I could.
If I should.
If I would.
Of course it would really just be a reproduction of his cells.
Of his DNA.
It would not be him.
I know this.
But I have no children to remember him by.
I have no remaining genetic evidence that he ever existed in my life.
All I have is a tattoo on my back and a disgusting scar on my arm.
And the scar reminds me more of the other driver.
That asshole who took away my husband and his genetic evidence.
But it would be nice to have a little Roger 2.
Part of him to carry on with me.
Part of him to look up and me and for me to look down at him.
I know this new boy would be different.
I know he would not be the same.
He would not have the same experiences.
Perhaps not even the same exact personality.
And perhaps even some health problems due to the cloning process, but....
I would do it.
I would clone him if I could.
I would do it with all the risks.
I would do it knowing that it would not be the same.
I know without a doubt that I would do it.
Just to have a little part of him back.