I did a shitty thing. I will concede that. I will feel the guilt for a long, long time. I cheated on him.

I didn't have sex. I gave my heart away. And I may have kissed someone else too.

Do I feel shame? Regret? Am I sorry that I did that?
Yes to all of the above.

He asked me why.. Why I did it.

I couldn't answer him. It just wasn't as simple as that. I needed time, to sort out my thoughts, and give him the answer he deserves.

For months, he'd been depressed. I didn't write about it, because it was so difficult. Plus, it was his business. Though he was a part my life, it wasn't my life to post on the internet. He was so depressed he wouldn't go out with me. Wouldn't go on a date with me, wouldn't come with me to friend's houses, didn't even want to go and see (or even talk to) his family. If I was having a hard day, I couldn't call him, because he wouldn't answer.

It was hard. I would call him for hours, and have to hang up thirty seconds later because it went to voicemail. Again. And I would cry because I needed him so badly.

It was then that I began a friendship with another guy. Moose. When B wouldn't answer, he would be the guy I would vent to. The guy who would comfort me, say everything I needed to hear, kept me calm. When I was so sick at work, and B wouldn't bring me anything, Moose was there. Bought me medicine, told me what to do to get healthy; He took care of me.

The whole time though, I tried to be supportive. I tried to be a good girlfriend. It's hard though, when you go home and all you do with your boyfriend is sit around and hardly say a word. And the only one who ever makes an effort to be more than roommates is you. It's not very easy to continue living like that.

But I tried. For months, I tried.

It was 2 weeks ago last Saturday that I made out with a girl. I was drunk, she was hitting on me, I thought 'Hey, why not?!" We shared a very amazing, very public kiss outside of a bar. We continued the kiss in the car on the way home. I wasn't thinking, and I didn't know B would have a problem with it. I thought I'd been the only one who had a problem of me being with a girl without him. Also, I was drunk. I mentioned that, right?
But he was angry. Livid, actually. He cursed her up and down, he was angry with me that I'd done it. But I really liked her, and he didn't even want me to see her, or talk to her, or mention her name again.

It took me days to realize it, but that Saturday was important for me. Because it made me realize that being with a girl isn't something I can just tell myself that I don't want. I can't just cut that part of my sexuality off, like a switch. It doesn't work that way. And afterwards, I felt on top of the world, after that Saturday. Not because I feel in love with her or anything, but because being with her was something that I'd so desperately craved for years. And it felt good. Really good.

This was not good for B's depression. It made him feel even more inadequate, which drove an even bigger wedge in between us.

When I finally realized that being with girls is something I need, not all the time, just sometimes; I resisted him. We fought. For him, this was something that was just a matter of self-control. For me, I was a matter of being able and free to do something that i needed to do for me.
One particularly bad fight, when I wasn't entirely sober; He told me that monogamy isn't too much to ask from me, and if I didn't agree that I should just leave now. He yelled the words LEAVE NOW, as he pointed towards the door.

Hearing those words, as he pointed towards the door, killed me. It hurt me so badly. I cried so hard that I started hyperventilating. He apologized, held me, kissed me; but the damage had already been done. The mere thought that he could not only mention those words, but be so okay with threatening me with them, that he could show me the way out.
And so the wedge got even bigger.

All the while, I had this feeling in my heart. This intense, undefinable feeling. I keep thinking it was guilt, from making out with a girl. Then I thought it was the distance between B and I. I kept trying to solve it, find out what it was... Tried to make it better. Nothing would help.

Six days after The Infamous Saturday, B called me after reading my blog, exactly one week ago. It was my last night at The Hotel. I was already emotional, and wanting the night to Just. Be. Over. already. He said he'd read my blog, and read about my elation about being with Her. He was hurt. I thought we were breaking up. Our entire conversations that night were like watching a train wreck in progress. Everything was slowed down, I could see everything unfolding in front of me, yet I sat back, powerless to keep it from happening.

We didn't break up then. We just came really close.

Truth was, I had a crush on her. One I hadn't really recognized, but still the feeling persisted after I did recognize it. That vague pain that I couldn't put a name on, but was getting worse by the day. I found myself clinging to my friend Moose during those painful moments. The moments where the one person I thought I had in the whole world wouldn't even answer my calls. And while I thought I understood, really the whole time I was making excuses for him. Trying to make it okay that I hardly had someone. While I definitely had someone to come home to, to cuddle with at night, I didn't have anyone to help me tackle the world. I was essentially alone out there.

And it hurt. It hurt that he wouldn't go out with me, wouldn't even go to the grocery store with me. I started finding comfort in the presence of another man. I justified it at first, saying that I didn't feel that way for him and he didn't feel that way for me.

And that's essentially how it happened. It wasn't until I had a chance to sit down, and write what I felt that I finally realize what that vague, undefinable feeling was. I loved Moose. All that he'd helped me through in the past year, all the connections we forged, everything had made a friendship, and that inseparable friendship passed over into a romantic love that I've literally never known.
I've had people ask if I'm crazy, tell me I'm crazy. But, they never saw the nights that I slept alone. They never saw any of the painful moments that wedged us apart, because I wouldn't let them. I hardly even let myself see them. So, I understand their thinking that.
But this has been months coming. It just wasn't until last Monday, when I told him how I felt about him, that that feeling, that pain, finally subsided. When I was finally able to express my love for him into words, and then tell him, that I finally had some relief from the nagging, dull pain. I told him how deeply I cared, and he said he'd been in love with me since the first moment he saw me.

I tried not to fall for him. I tried to make myself believe that the feelings that were evolving inside of me for months weren't what they obviously were. I tried everything in the book.

The only thing I regret is that I didn't leave B before I told Moose how I felt. I essentially cheated on him, and that's not who I am. I don't think I was ready for the change. Three and a half years with one person, doing essentially the same things every day is big deal. And I didn't know how to handle it, so I took the coward's way out, and let him find out for himself.

It was killing me to lie, to everyone. But I didn't know what to do, so I just tried to ignore it. But I found out the hard way that it's better to face things up front than to wait for them to change themselves.

Things are still changing rapidly, but things are also very amazing. I'm doing stuff for me. I'm putting myself first for me and me alone, and it feels good to know that I am, at least, important to one person.

The truth was that I was lonely, and I think that things are going to be better, for both of us.

I tried for so long to convince myself that not only did I not have feelings for Moose, but that I sincerely loved B, and would stick with him through everything. But the truth is that I wasn't happy. I was voluntarily blinding myself with love, and convincing myself that I didn't need what I truly did. I was always sacrificing, always nurturing, always doing for him. And now? I get to do for me.

And I think I might be okay with that for a little while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

B,

I don't know if this will be the last letter I'll write to you. I don't know what the future holds in store for you or I. I don't know if there is a way to properly tell you how sorry I am.
But I do know that you deserve someone who can give you everything that you want and need. I do know that you're an amazing person. And I do know that you didn't deserve what I did to you.

You asked me why, and I hope that this answers your question. It may not be what you wanted to hear, or in the way that you wanted to hear it, but there it is. In all its truth. And I do love you, and care about you, and wish nothing but the best for you. Because you deserve nothing less.

You have been an extremely instrumental person in my life, and I would not be who I am today if it weren't for you. Thank you for loving me, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. The other day, when Obama passed Hillary in super-delegates, I wanted to tell you, until I realized that I couldn't. Or when I downloaded Doctor Who. You're still very special to me. You always will be.

I guess I just wanted you to know that. And that I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. If I could go back, and do it differently, I would.

I think we both would.

Miss Queen Bee

I'm sorry I've been so ... mean lately. You don't deserve it. You're a great guy, and you don't deserve the PMS, cranky mess I've been lately. I've been spoiling your moods, and I'm normally such a positive aspect in your life, and I've been nothing but a poison to you.

I guess I just wanted to tell you how much I like you. You're just a pure, honest, caring, giving person. I don't think in a million years that I could ever repay you for all you've given to me. To be honest, this is something I literally hadn't come to me until I just now thought about it. I know I can be forceful with you, I know I can sometimes treat you like you don't know any better. I don't mean to, but in my own way, that's my way of attempting to repay you for being such a great friend.

Telling what you need to hear, forcing you to eat chips when you definitely need them, and speaking poorly about someone you care about is my way of trying to give back for all you've given to us. I know that's impossible, but I have to at least try. It's not that I don't want you to be happy, it's just that it's exactly the opposite. I know because of the person you are, you have the chance to have the happiness that B and I do; not to be with someone who has treated you with less consideration than you've treated her. It doesn't have to be that way. If you could experience a minute of what I know is possible for you, you'd see what I see.

But I know that you're an adult, and what I'm working on right now is realizing that you're an adult, and you can, and will, make your own mistakes. Actually, because of the person you are, you would make those mistakes, and do everything you can, and then some to make it work, no matter what.

I'm working on it though. Not because I want to be proven right, but because it's the right thing to do. For a friend.
~QueenBee

++++++++++++++++++

B,

I've had a hard month now. Just the past couple of weeks have seemed like a complete struggle just to make it to the end of the day. And last night, I was a complete bitch. Filing for my taxes, stress from work coming to a head, exhaustion, and PMS ALL added in together; I was a bitch. A whiny, cranky bitch. And while some would've just put up with it, given me what I wanted; but you just got mad at me. And what does a cranky person do when they realize their fits and crankiness aren't getting them anywhere? They stop doing it.

But, as a result to my crankiness, I'd severely pissed you off. So, I cried. Bawled. It was one of those ways of crying that I was crying baseball-sized tear, and crying so hard I could hardly breathe. In fact, it was one of those cries I feel like I only cry when I'm drunk, and we get in a fight. But I guess severe exhaustion isn't much different than a few martinis, is it?

Tonight, coming home to you, looking into your eyes as you held me, I knew everything that I needed to know in that moment. I suppose PMS leaves me very self-conscious, very scared, and I suppose I needed to hear a bunch of validating compliments from you. I was getting a little bit down when even my compliment fishing didn't work. That is, until I looked into your eyes, for just a moment, and saw everything that I'd been searching for.

Thank you for loving me that much. For always remaining stubborn and strong to who you are, but also willing to give me everything I'd ever need, even when I don't know it's what I need.

Forever your's,
~TheGF

+++++++++++++++

Dear Body,

First off, you've been really great at putting up with my lack of sleep this past month. But this whole waking up at 5am without letting me the chance to go back to sleep? Really. REALLY. Not. Cool.

I was even going to sleep in today. I was going to allow myself the opportunity *gasp* SLEEP IN this morning. But, just like yesterday, 4:55am on the dot, I'm awake. Can't go back to sleep. At least last night I went to sleep before midnight, but that's still NOT GOOD ENOUGH. Especially when I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO. What part of FIVE AM makes you think that I want to wake up? Because whatever it is, or whatever you happen to think it is? Let me assure you, IT DEFINITELY IS NOT.

kthxbai.

Your other half.

Correct answer: Texas. It matters not when you ask this, where you ask this, why you ask this. The actuality of going to Texas is unnecessary. Even if you're going to the bathroom, you're always going to Texas. (An educated guess as to the origin of this answer is that we distinctly and passionately hate Texas. That's all I've got.)

Question: Any question where the answer should be an amount: How many do you want? What time are you coming over? What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?

Correct answer: 7. Seven what's, you may ask? Seven. Any further inquires are all correctly answered with "Seven".

Any question or statement with a positive, or affirmative, answer or reaction.

Correct answer: MILLION BILLION! Answer must always been said far too loud than is appropriate or warranted, and no other response will be necessary. A response of "One? One for Bf? ONE FOR BF!!" would also be accepted here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was totally going to post last night. I got home at 10:45, and was going to post before things got crazy. This did not happen. I passed out shortly after the craziness started. Ahh, the perks of being exhausted and working 60 hour weeks!

I guess I just prefer the mundane to the extraordinary. The commonplace and uneventful to the exciting and adventurous. Not that I don't love a good adventure, just not when it's surrounded by drama.

I can take drama, adventure, and excitement. But only up to a point. And this week? Was nothing but constant, exhausting drama.

If one were to ask me to sum up my week, I would point one to Thursday. Because Thursday encompassed everything that this week has, all in 24 hours. And I don't do well with that kind of drama.

I woke up 40 minutes before I had to be at work, and made it out the door within 20 minutes. Great start to a great day. I knew that this was the type of day that would've been spent more productively in bed.

No. It will not be that type of day. Things will get better, I can feel it.

I got to work, and was told that not only was I not getting a raise, I was asked told to keep my hours to full time. Nothing over. I set down the stuff I was working on, and walked out.

Outside it was cold, and rainy. Another good omen, yet still I pressed on. Insisted that things are never that bad. The day always looks up. Think POSITIVELY.

It just seems grossly unfair to be working your ass off, and not only are you not being paid the right wage, but you're not even allowed to get overtime. This is how much we value you, and your work. This is how much we appreciate everything you've done, all the hard work you've put in. It felt like a slap in the face. Here I am, working a bookkeeper/babysitter/customer service rep. job all for the Customer Service Rep's wage. And I could even be okay with that, up to a point. But then I'm cut off at the knees? Not only are we not going to pay you more, we don't even want you here if you're going to force us to.

It won't be that kind of day. Thing will probably get better.

I was so angry, so frustrated, so hurt. I honestly didn't know ... anything, really. I didn't know if I'd made the right decision. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't even know if I wanted to stick around for another minute.

I could go into details here, but, quite frankly, they'd be very negative, and not at all worth reading. Fact of the matter is, one of the most annoying parts of my job, something that I have to put up with every day, countless times a day, was thrown back into my face, as if it was some sort of fault of my own. Which was, in fact, brought up in a very important meeting with the Big Wigs. Again, Wonderful.

No. I won't let it be one of those days. Keep pressing on...

After I found this out, I tried to grab some lunch, thinking that I was just imagining the bad day because I was in a bad mood because I'd had serious lack of sustenance. I go, and the card is declined, and not only do I not have food, but I barely have enough gas to get home. So, I broke down. In big, heaving sobs, with tears that drop straight off my face. I couldn't help it.

It's just one of those days.

I'd given up on positive thinking. What's the use? So, I just went with the flow.

Moose ordered me lunch delivered, and then after I ate, I called BF. I know that whenever I'm stressed, the only person that can make it better is him. And when he said I love you.. I miss you, and I could really hear the sincerity in his voice... I just sat there in shock. Three words, in two sentences, but coming from that one person, it just felt like all my stress had lifted. And that everything was right in the world again.
And then, much to my dismay, my day got better. The Boss that'd heard so much crap about me came by and was unusually nice to me. We closed and locked the doors. We went grocery shopping, but then saw an amazing spa/salon, that I'm going to get my hair cut at on Monday.

The end of the day rolled around, and I was frustrated, frazzled from everything that'd gone on. It was almost just as bad that things had gotten better in a way, because I didn't know what to think. I'd given in to the bad day, and it did something unexpected. And the unexpected is just filled with drama.

I spent the night loving on my boyfriend, while watching some really great, and some really crappy shows. And as midnight rolled around, as we lied there sweaty from making love, entwined in each others arms, I thought how much life can surprise you. Sometimes, even for the better. And sometimes, one person can be the difference between the good, and the bad. Between handling it, and going crazy. Between the world being for you, and against you. Sometimes, the only difference is having the right person in your corner.

When I'm weak I draw strength from you
And when you're lost I know how to change your mood
And when I'm down you breathe life over me
Even though we're miles apart we are each other's destiny

I have out-of-body-ish experiences in times like this. I'm such a chicken, that in order to get the really brave thing done that I need to get done, specifically when I'm breaking some serious news to someone who may have a bad reaction to it.

So, I did it. I told her that I just couldn't do it anymore. 4+ weeks of 70-80 hours? It'd pretty much done me in.

She took it rather well. Perhaps because she was expecting it, perhaps because she'd been spying on me, I'll never know.

After she left, I kept thinking. That was it?! That's what I was so scared of?! Piece. Of. Cake.

Of course, I'm pretty sure I was still in some sort of shock. Though I'm not even sure why. It's just quitting a job. Quitting a job under amicable circumstances. This shouldn't be such a big deal.

But it is, because every thing's a big deal for me. Even small deals are big deals for me.

It wasn't until later, when relaying the information that I'd put in my notice to my long time work friend, that I was suddenly overcome with the reality of it.

In a few weeks, I won't work at The Hotel anymore. I've worked for 2 years at The Hotel. How can I possibly not work at The Hotel one day?!

Then my brain started churning over and over all the things that I'm going to miss, and all of the things that I'm not going to miss.

I'll just say that one list is way fucking slightly longer than the other. I'll leave you to guess which one.

I guess I just don't do change well. I'm a routine kind of person. Even if routine means 12+ hour days, then so be it. That's just the way it is. And for some inexplicable reason, I'm changing my routine.

Woah. Umm... Why didn't someone let me know sooner that PUTTING IN NOTICE also means I'M QUITTING. Or that all this talk I've been doing for over a year about how much I want to quit? MIGHT ACTUALLY HAPPEN IF I QUIT.

Seriously. Would've been nice to know.

But I suppose I'm starting to handle it. While part of me is a little concerned of all the freedom I'll have. You know... Having weekends. And evenings. And my birthday. All off without having to ask for them. The other part of me is happy.

This hotel has been such a part of my life for so long now. Without me even realizing it, I've spent 2 years of my life working here. And while not every day was bad, most of them were. While there were parts of my job that I enjoyed, most of it I didn't.

So, It's a little scary, but this chapter has lasted way too long. And it's time.  I'm so happy that another, better chapter is starting. While it may be the safe, comfortable answer to continue this chapter, and I know most everything it has in store; I'm looking forward to the surprises and challenges that the next chapter holds.

Just a bit of dreaming...

I feel like for the first time, in a very, very long time, I'm right where I'm supposed to be. And if I just sit still for once, something great might just happen.

This July, I will be 22. That's 2 years away from the age my father said to wait to get married, and it's one year away from the age that I wanted to get married at.  It doesn't take too much imagination to think that I may be working there in 2 years. While Drew graduates. And when he proposes. And while we plan our wedding.

I don't want to tempt The Universe or anything, who we all know has it out for us. :-)

It's just that, that thought? Makes me really, really happy.

Lately, I suppose I've learned another valuable lesson: I am not invincible. Especially when I'm tired. And hungry.

Yesterday, after last week of working my ass off, and doing the same yesterday, I could feel the stress. I was wearing it on my face, it was making me sick to my stomach. It was palpable.

It all boils down to the fact that I probably made a mountain out of a molehill, and then let it worry me sick, literally.

I was talking to my friend and co-worker/boss, Moose, about it. He could tell that I was stressing. He could tell I wasn't happy. The more he and I talked, the more I could feel the tears pressing and pushing, forcing themselves to make a grand appearance, one I was not too keen on Moose witnessing.

So, I ran. I went home, and the second I shut the door behind me, I felt like I'd shut out all of the problems of the day. As soon as I felt the warmth of his presence and his love soak all the way down into my soul, they rushed out of me. He didn't even have to see me crying to know something wasn't right.

As hard as I may try to keep it out, the exhaustion seems to be the only thing I'm not immune to. Two and a half hours of sleep on Sunday night makes for a stressful Monday, to say the least.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This new job has led to new experiences in my social scene as well. Moose being my friend, yet also my co-worker, we spend a lot of time around each other. Whether it be talking on the internet, calls, day-to-day work stuff.

After I went out the Friday before last with him and my friend, Montana, B wasn't there because he wasn't feeling well, and the entire time, I felt as if I'd cheated.
B had started off not liking the idea of me going out with him, because it was just going to be me and Moose at first. I didn't like that idea either, but what was I supposed to do when I'd already promised?!
Well, that feeling never really left the the evening, and I spent most of it wishing he was there.

I hate the feeling that I've cheated. I felt it when I met her. I felt it that Friday, and I'm having the inkling that I'm going to feel it again.

My friend Moose knows that I'm bi, and wants me to meet a few girls that are coming up from Texas.

Great idea, if you know ... I were single. But I've got a man that I adore, and who adores me, and I really don't like the feeling of being with someone without him, ya know?

As much as a part of me miss being with a girl, another part of me hates the feeling left behind when it happens.
Last time it left a bad taste in my mouth, though the candy was sweet. And while the taste this time around my immediately satiate me, just the thought of the "last time" brings back the memory of that terrible after-taste.

Maybe it's me, again, making a mountain out of a mole hill. I know I'm very prone to doing that, so it's not beyond my realm of comprehension that these feelings are more a product of my highly-religious raising than a product of reality.

But still...

Then, I heard a song on the radio. Part of the chorus was, "There's no one else." Until I'd heard that lyric, I'd been too busy to listen to the song because I was mulling over everything that was happening. Did I want it? If I do, does it mean I'm a bad person? If I don't, how do I tell my friend? But the second I heard that line, everything else was silent. And I knew. I knew like I knew last time, He is my One and Only. There is no one else.

And in that second, I felt relief. Like I was again making the right choice. Because I want to forever be able to come home from a stressful day, and have his shoulder to cry into. I will forever want him over 100 one night stands, no matter how badly a part of my brain might want it.

Some can, and have tried to, tell me that I can't deny that part of me, I have to 'explore' those feelings. But the fact remains that that's just not the kind of girl I am. Just as they can try and convince me to go out and dance on the dance floor, something I'm extremely adverse to doing, but I should! Because it will help me in this area! But that's not who I am.

I'm affectionate, and adoring. I'm a faithful hopeless romantic. I'm an emotional creature, sometimes to a fault. And above all, I'm extremely, fiercely loyal. And I can't deny that, even if it is for the sake of half of my sexuality.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tonight found me lecturing Moose about his desire to be with his ex-girlfriend. He's one of the most generous people I've ever met, but he's also one of the most determined. I spent most of the night trying to talk some sense into him, but his mind was made up.

Frankly, I felt (*Ahem feel Ahem*) that she doesn't deserve him. She spent all of her time telling him how he's inadequate, and none of it appreciating his sweet and thoughtful qualities. After a few hours of going around and around in circles with him, I finally decided I was going to shut up. I mean, who was I to talk? Here I am, deciding to ignore a part of me that will probably always be there, all for love. And I'm lecturing him.

He told me that it's worth the sacrifice. And, again, I knew. He was right. Though I might disagree with his particular choice, sometimes love is worth the sacrifice. Both for him, and for me.

Sometimes love, and life, is about knowing when to sacrifice, and when to draw the line.

Each day working 13 to 14 hours; It can get stressful easily. I begin thinking I cannot hack it. I cannot do it any longer. I should just throw in the towel. But something keeps me going. Something gives me the strength to push through another day. I don't know if it's my pride, not wanting to be proven wrong, and not wanting to disappoint myself. I don't know if it's just my raw determination, my mind's strength forcing itself upon my physical strength. I begin to think I'm on the verge of an answer, only to realize it's just the glimpse of the end of the tunnel.
I love one job, hate the other. I forge through one because it's rewarding, satisfying to look at my work. I forge through the other, because I have to. No other reason. Nothing about it is satisfying, there is no 'work' to look at afterward. I begin to see what kind of worker, what kind of person I am. I am beginning to get a better look at what makes me tick.

These kinds of things run through my mind all day long, that is, when I'm not too busy with other things.

By the end of my nights, I find myself physically and mentally exhausted. Most of me has been used up throughout the day, and I come home to find myself asleep within an hour or two, which is unusual for me. It usually takes me longer to quiet my restless, mile-a-minute mind.

I finally let go, at the end of an exhausting day, and let my body fall upon the couch, next to his. He's usually already asleep, but it matters not to me. Just his breath, his presence, sometimes even his voice and touch, is all I need to calm me down.

And in those moments, when I'm refilling on my need for him again, I realize that there's nothing else I need. There's no one else I'd rather come home to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was a little worried to begin the night. Boyfriend didn't like the idea of me going out with only another guy. And I didn't blame him. I was just trying to keep a promise to a friend. A friend. That's all he is to me, and I know that's not what he's concerned about. He just doesn't like that I'd be out, drunk, with another guy. I completely agreed and sympathized. I hate being out without him. But a promise is a promise.

The original agreement was for both of us to go. And that didn't happen, because he had a headache and was generally feeling like crap. I didn't want him to go. I just felt bad for promising to go, and then backing out.

At the last minute, my friend called to say that she needed to be picked up, so I was all set. I would not be out with only a guy friend, it'd be the three of us. And that seemed to calm his nerves, and mine too.

I had a great time. Good food, good drinks. Good friends. The night was filled with laughter, stories, and jokes. With flirting, oogling, and gossiping. But all the while, there was an underlying, unspoken truth. He wasn't there. And I missed him.

Though the night was perfect in so many regards, there was one in which it wasn't.

I went home that night, still slightly drunk, and I lied down next to his sleeping body. And as his arms naturally wrapped around me as he slept, I knew. There is no one else I'd rather come home to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No matter where I go, no matter what happens there, I know. We will struggle, and we will fight. We will be at each other's throats without even wanting to. But he is it. For the rest of my life, he is it.

There is no one else I'd rather come home to.

I laughed it off, said she wasn't the first to say something like that to me. Everyone else laughed as well. I wanted to remain upbeat, and pleasant, opting to hide my very seriously problem I had with someone who was on the committee that decides whether or not to hire me ask me such a question.

My mind raced afterwards. What business is it of her's? They don't know me, they don't know B. She had no right to ask me that.

Of course I was angry, I felt I'd been attacked, personally. Like they didn't approve of me, and felt like making a joke of the remainder of my interview seemed like just as good idea as any.

But after talking with friends, -- some older, more mature, and wiser, than I -- I am less angry.

It's true. When I get questions about the path I'm taking, choosing to send B through college first, I am met with a lot of disapproval. People who are jaded, damaged to the point that they're cynical, pessimistic. People who think they've seen it all, and know what they're talking about.

And that's not to say that they don't. I'm sure they think that the way I'm headed, I'll only get disappointment. They think that there are no men with good intentions, and no relationships that last.

I never waver, hesitate, or even doubt for a second. I know B, I know our love. I know our situation, and I know that this is the most logical choice for us. It'd be easier to send him through 2 years of school and have him work on a College Graduate's salary, than me spend 4 years in school, all the while both of us struggling because there are no real opportunities for people in fields that we're good at without college degrees.

I know this. They don't. And really, I can't blame them. They're only speaking from experience. They're only speaking from a very jilted place, where life does nothing but shit on you, and then you die.

I am very well aware of the risks. Very aware of the possibilities that things might not work out the way we've planned. I understand the very real risks, the chances I'm taking.

But I can't sit on the sidelines, hoping life drops into my lap.  I can't let a few risks hold me back from the life that we want. What kind of life would we have if we let the unknown keep us from everything we've ever wanted?!

That's not living, at least not by my definitions.

Think about what we wouldn't have if we let uncertainty, and the fear of it, dictate our actions. America wouldn't exist, the founding fathers could have just sat at home, instead of challenging their king and his army. There would be no Independence Days anywhere! There would be no love, no adventure, no excitement!

The thing is, while there is a very real possibility that B might leave me after he graduates, and that I'm not guaranteed that he'll stay with me afterwards. Then again, I'm not guaranteed tomorrow. I'm not guaranteed anything out of life. Who's to say that either of us will be here tomorrow, 10 days, 10 years!?

Life does throw a lot of curve balls, but life is not made from our decisions when we're safe in the security of 100% certainty. Life is made when we do things we're not supposed to. When we date our brother's crushes, when we go out on a limb, put ourselves at risk, and just go for it!

THAT is life. I never want to know a life that I'm never taking chances, never going for the big interview when I probably won't get it. When I'm never kissing the boy that I'm not supposed to; Never risking all, simply because I might lose.

This is why I just laugh when I get questions like these. Because I feel sorry for them. They've settled into a safe life, into a risk-free agreement; but are they getting any joy out of it?

My philosophy with love was the saying, "Laugh like no one's listening, Dance like no one's watching, and Love like you've never been hurt before." It's the same philosophy I have with life. If you feel like dancing, DANCE. If you feel like running through sprinklers, DO IT!
I skate on my shopping carts through the parking lot. I belt out songs in my car. I do things without knowing how first. Sure I might make a fool of myself, but at least I'll learn from it!

I still get scared like everyone else, that's not the difference. It's not letting your fear control you.

Don't ever be afraid to take a chance, to just jump in with everything you have. Sure you might come up empty, but what if you get everything you've ever dreamed of?!

Sure I might have my heart broken, or be left at an inconvenient time. But what if we actually pull this off? What if we not only get everything we've been working for this whole time, but we also get to tell them that it is possible. Love really can conquer all, and dreams really do come true. I might sound like an idealist, but I'd rather be an idealist any day than a cynic.

Here's to throwing caution to the wind. Here's to the exhilaration of the unknown. Here's to love. Here's to adventure, excitement, and spending it all with the one person who gets you best.

I'll do whatever it takes
To turn this around
I know that what's at stake
I know that I've let you down
And if you give me a chance
Believe that I can change
I'll keep us together whatever it takes

I would like to correct myself now. If I have ever, at any point said, "It isn't always easy", I would like to correct that to, "It's never easy." Relationships don't just take work. Car maintenance takes work. Keeping your house clean, that takes work. Relationships are a conglomeration of work, dedication and commitment, and the inability to ever give up.

I think if I was capable of giving up, I would have done it recently. I don't want to air his dirty laundry here, it's not my place to share his life to the world. Suffice it to say that things have been on edge between us for the last week or two. When your outside life gets difficult, you often take it out on the person you love, or you hold it in and just let it eat away at your inner self, which often leads to closing everyone else out. Both of us are guilty of this, in one way or the other.

It's taken me this entire time, and several (dozen) aborted posts, to be able to think this through. To be able to be honest with myself. I think that I thought that being honest with myself went hand in hand with admitting defeat. Like speaking the words aloud meant that it was not only real, but it was too much for me to handle, and that meant I was giving up.

I don't know what I was thinking. I think, with the help of PMS, I've taken a bad situation, and just beat it to a pulp so badly that it isn't just a bad situation, it is the end of the world as I know it.

Sometimes, even though you may love the person, you know you cannot help them. Or maybe you just don't know how. And there's no book to turn to, no amount of googling that can show you the right way to proceed.
Every person is different, and even though we may celebrate our differences on most days, sometimes they keep us from truly being able to understand each other enough to be able to help them in the way they need to be helped.

I thought that somehow admitting all that, admitting how difficult it is, and how it seems impossible most of the time, that it meant it truly was impossible. That there was no way to work things out, and that I should just walk away now.

But I couldn't admit that to myself, I just couldn't. Mainly because how terrified I was, to the core, to just think it, much less speak it.

The fact of the matter is that I don't want to give up. I don't want to give in, or walk away. I want to stick this out, stand beside him, even if it doesn't do any good. I want to just support him in everything that he does or ever wants to do.

I think it should have been a clue to me that these thoughts don't mean the end of the world, or even in the ballpark of what I thought they meant, when I couldn't even think them without scaring myself shitless.

When I heard this song, even though it wasn't the first time I'd heard it, for some reason it really hit home. It spoke to the fearful part of me, the part of me that's always waiting for the bottom to drop out and say afterwards, "I told ya so." The shithole, pessimist part of me.

Because even though it's never easy, even though every day seems like a fight, a struggle, a battle to even finish it, there's no one else in the world I'd want to fight beside. It's not easy, but you find your strength in the embraces that seem to last forever, or the glances that say it all. It moments like those that hold you through. That reinforce your love, your commitment, in order for you two to see it through the next uphill battle.

I know we're not married, and it almost seems that this type of dedication should belong to those who've given vows in front of an audience. Who wear rings, and have special names attached for each other. Like the commitment, and the marriage come in a package deal.

But it's not.

We're just two people, who love each other so deeply, and refuse to give up.

We're going to make this work..

Whatever it takes.

Well, I suppose that's all for today. That's a pretty good update. Not too bad. ;-)

Anyone need a hug? 'Cuz...

I gotz 'em.

The truth is that it's a lot easier to wake up when you're in a cranky, sleepy fight with the love of your life, and neither of you have had near enough sleep.

The truth is that while I've heard how these may be the best times of my life? They're also the hardest, and I hope that it gets easier at some point.

The truth is that I would much rather spend a night alone, and cook for one like I'm single because he's up at school studying all night, than have to fight B to do his homework. That I hate having to feel like his mother, but sometimes I think that might make things easier. But I know, when I'm thinking that? It's because I haven't tried hard enough.

The truth is that I would follow him to the end of the world, and let him lead me right off a cliff (Though, arguably, I might be trying to talk him out of it the whole way.) The truth is that I believe in him, and I won't give up. I can't, and I won't. I've already got to believe in him when everybody else is lacking, and sometimes even enough for him too. But I've got enough faith in him to go around.

The truth is that sometimes life is stressful, so stressful that all I can do is crawl up in a little ball, and wonder how I'm possibly going to face the world the next day. But then, usually with my rock by my side, I gain confidence again. Maybe I wasn't strong enough to take on the world yesterday - one man, one reservation, and one class at a time - but today? I will be.

The truth is that I have to think that to keep going, and part of me thinks I'm only thinking that because I get in survival mode.
The truth is that every time I hear this upbeat song? It makes me cry.

"And even though we ain't got money / I'm so in love with you, honey / And everything will bring a chain of love. / And in the morning, when I rise / You bring a tear of joy to my eyes / And tell me everything is gonna be alright."

And they're not sad tears.

The truth is that I don't think I would make it without him, nor him without me. We bring our strengths and weaknesses to the table, jumble them around and pretend like we know what we're doing when we're truly clueless, and in the end, he's got what I need, and vice versa.

But the truth is? I don't think we'd want to make it without each other. It's not just that he's strong where I lack, the truth is that he makes the struggles, and the fights, he makes them all worth it. He makes me happy when I'm stupid cranky, and makes me want to get up after I've been struggling to get to sleep for half an hour just so I can tell him how much I love him.

He's the macaroni to my cheese. The peanut butter to my jelly. The yin to my yang, and the joke for my laughs. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Bring it all on, because we can take it.

Update: AND! I got offered a possible job! A JOB? We'll see? Yeah, today might just be all right.

So, on to the matters at hand.

Here’s a question for you, “Would you rather be right, or happy?” Too often our pride and egos can keep us from enjoying intimate relationships. We stew over what we think are injustices, but are perhaps only misunderstandings.

We carry grudges and do not show enough grace, passion or forgiveness to the person we care most about. Our need to be right can overshadow our need to receive, and give, love.

Take a look at what your pride is costing you. If intimacy is strained and the relationship is off track you may want to reconsider the value of your anger or self righteousness. Here’s the thing: You may be right in the argument although you partner thinks otherwise, but you will never be wrong when you put your partner first. Happiness always feels better than vindication.

B and I are very different individuals. He's logical, non-emotional (I would almost say Anti-Emotional). He's a boy. He's into computers and programming. He only reads political blogs. Hates personal blogs, and would rather stay away from fiction.

I? I am so emotional I want to cut out the emotional gland of my brain and feed it to the birds. I'm quick-tempered, but I also forgive quickly. I, for the most part, get bored with political blogs, and read personal blogs. I like girlie movies, girlie music, girlie books. I like watching TV that doesn't involve my brain, which more often than not, includes non-news.

We share a very unique sense of humor. And that's pretty much it. (I can't tell you how many times we've been in public and he tries to crack a joke, and I'm the only one laughing. No one else gets it. From day one, I swear.) And a sincere love of each other, and fried foods.

He is a debater. I'm a negotiator. He always has to be right, and I want to find a common ground to that we can agree upon.

This? Is why I think we work. I don't always have to be right. Heck, after 3 1/2 years, I've become accustomed to not being right. So when I am, it kind of freaks me out.

I don't have to be right, but I always like to be happy. And sometimes, that is the hardest part. Sometimes when we fight, I want him to see my side. And when we fight? It's pretty much the only time he ever gets emotional; and him being a male, and now emotional, he doesn't want to give me what I want. And sometimes, he's a little bit right.

So we basically fight until I give up, and I know how that sounds. It sounds like I'm always giving in to what he wants or something, but I have never cared. I concede 'defeat', as if it's a game and there's a winner and loser. But I've always known this, before I even read this before tonight.

Sometimes there are more important things in life than being right, and one of those things, at least for me, is Us. I can forget, I can move on, I can dismiss it. It's never worth fighting over the same things, repeating the same points over and over again for the sake of arguing. We're like two sumo fighters, neither one willing to move, until I choose to move. For the sake of happiness. For the sake of love.

These words are my own
From my heart flow
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you
There's no other way
To better say
I love you, I love you...

Have a good day folks. I know I will.

But in this area, I suppose I'm a traditionalist. And not for the sake of traditionalism. There are actually reasons that I don't want to propose to B.

1.) I've dreamed of being proposed to since...I don't know, I met him? He's always said he wants to go all out and make a huge scene, and you know what? I want a huge scene. I've been wondering for 3 1/2 years how he's going to do it, and if I propose to him, how will I ever know?
And plus, how do you propose to a guy? Wouldn't it be the opposite of romantic? Like, "Hey, how would you feel about getting married." "Alright."
And a scene like that doesn't belong in a romantic movie, or a Hallmark Card, or as my engagement story. B's parents had an engagement story like that, and their marriage was the most passionless marriage I've ever heard of.

2.) B is a man's man. He's masculine, he walks into Victoria Secret grunting and saying "I eat raw meat. I am man. Raaa." He's a very dominant type personality too, he doesn't like being told what to do, he doesn't like being forced to do something, whether he wants to do it or not. I don't think me proposing to him would sit well. Not because he wouldn't want it to happen, but because I'd be the one taking the control, something I never do. I am not alpha female, I am who I am. And I am not a girl that gets down on one knee because she's impatient.

Besides, when I asked him what he would do if I proposed to him, "You can't, you're a girl." (He's not really that chauvinistic, he half meant it, and half was being funny. When we first got together, he would say stuff like that and I would get all huffy and try and argue with him, being the proud feminist that I am. He found this endlessly entertaining, and since I've just learned to laugh with him.)
But his head-strong, dominant ways are a huge reason why I love him.

3.) The most important one. I want him to make the decision. If it were up to me, we'd have been married 2 years ago. And I know we're not ready. Both of us come from divorced families (Mine multiple times. My mom is on her 6th marriage. My dad's only been married and divorced twice.)
I want to get married when it's right. I don't want to force it because I'm impatient.
I want him to make the choice and get down on one knee and ask me to spend the rest of my life with him. I don't want to do it for him. I want him to do it when he's ready. When he's sure he wants to make the commitment. And that's not to say that he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life with me now, I'm sure he does. It's the gesture, and the thought he'd put into that shows that he really would.

So, that's my answer. If I'm going to spend the rest of my life with someone, I have to do it the way it's right for me. I would applaud any woman that has enough 'balls' (for lack of a better term) to propose to her man. I'm not saying that it's wrong, or against nature or anything (I would never say anything like that.) I'm just saying that it's not for me. Sometimes I wish that was the type of woman I was, but then I realize that that's not the type of woman that B fell in love with. The most important times of my life, I feel I need to hold true to who I am in all situations. And this, in my opinion, is one of those times.

(Now, that being said, I am definitely a sort of head-strong woman. A guy that I work with wants a woman that will stay home, and bear his children. One that doesn't want her own career. To that, I say, WHAT THE HELL. I want to become a lawyer, I want to work a while before I have children. I want to have children, and stay home with them during the first part of their lives, and then go back to work. My potential career is very important to me, and I wouldn't give it up if B asked me to. Which he definitely wouldn't. Again, he likes that I have dreams and aspirations for myself, and they don't include being a slave to him.)

What about you guys? Would you propose to your man? (Lisa, I already know your answer. ;-) ) Would you wait for him to propose? Why or Why not?

So, I was watching one of the episodes in the First Season, called 'Save Me'. The beginning in particular got me thinking.

You know how when you were a little kid and you believed in fairy tales? That fantasy of what your life will be.
White dress. Prince Charming would carry you away to a castle on a hill. You'd lie in bed at night, close your eyes, and you had complete and utter faith.
Santa Clause. The tooth fairy. Prince Charming. They were so close you could taste them.

But eventually you grow up. One day, you open your eyes and the fairy tale disappears. Most people turn to the things, and people, they can trust.

But the thing is? It's hard to let go of that fairy tale entirely. 'Cause almost everyone has that smallest bit of hope, of faith, that one day they'll open their eyes and it will all come true.

I don't remember a lot from my childhood. I don't remember every being terribly into princesses. My favorite Disney Princess was Ariel, because she didn't look or act like a princess; of all the Disney princesses, she was the least princess-like. And I adored her.

I hated the stories of the princess getting rescued, I rejected, for the most part, the ideas that said a girl couldn't make it on her own. That she might need a man to do her 'dirty work' so to speak. Which is why Ariel was my favorite. She went on her own adventures, dreamed her own dreams, figured things out for herself, rejected the life that was being pressed upon her.

So, suffice it to say, I've never concerned myself with fairy tales. Not the cartoon kind at least.

But the romantic-comedy/Hollywood fairy tale? Totally caught my heart up in hope. Meaning, I saw the sweet, sensitive, romantic, handsome guy that jumped through 1,000 hoops for his soul-mate. I would dream of me meeting him, what he would be like, how we would live our lives.

And then, my heart was stomped on a few times, and I started to doubt the reality of 'Mr. Perfect'. We become jaded, cynical. We become convinced that love like that, perfection like that doesn't exist.

Then, I met Bf. He was gorgeous, funny, intelligent, amazing, and just simply took my breath.

Life? Is not a fairy tale. But sometimes it can be so damn close. The Fairy Tales leave out the cleaning you have to do, and the fights you get into. The fairy tales don't mention the struggles you have, and the unpleasant parts of life. Fairy tales never mention how the princess has to pay off her debt, or when she wakes up with ratty hair, and has morning breath.

Fairy Tales might leave out the less beautiful parts of Real Life, but they also leave out the most important parts. They might leave out how Prince Charming and Princess get in a fight, but they also leave out the making up that can be done afterwards.
They might leave out Princess's morning breath and bed-head, but they also leave out how Prince Charming still kisses her anyway, and tells her how beautiful she is.
They might not tell you how everything isn't always easy, but they also forget how wonderful it feels to walk through a struggle with the person you love and come out on the other side, stronger and more in love.

This is the fairy tale I've come to love. This is the life that I wake up every day wondering how I got so lucky. Ariel can have her perfect underwater life, I'm still fighting my own fights, figuring out things for myself, rejecting any preconceived life that might be pressed upon me.

I'm no princess, but I am my own queen. I have faith in myself, no longer in fairy tales. I opened my eyes, and my own fairy tale did come true. I made my own, and I have my own Prince Charming.

He's not perfect. Prince Charming was never cranky, and never farted. Prince Charming always said the right thing, and B? Not so much. But I don't care. It's my fairy tale, and though he's not perfect, even imperfection sparkles when the life hits it right.
Those princesses didn't get to experience what it's like to have Prince Charming take care of her when she's sick, bring her the fan that she has to have on when she sleeps without even being asked, so that she doesn't have to.

Fairy tales are good to dream about, but I think real life is so much better, so much more full, so much greater than could ever be portrayed in fiction.
Because life is what you make it, and it is my job to make my own fairy tale. So far? I'm pretty happy with what I've come up with. And it can only get better from here.

Here's to remembering that, here's to the exquisite sparkle of Real Life, here's to making your own fairy tale.
Here's to a love that is beyond words, beyond dreaming, and beyond Fairy Tales.

So, I woke up today at noonish and knew I had to take a shower. It takes like 24 hours for my hair to dry (may  be a*slight* exaggeration) so I have to take a shower waay before work at 3pm. So I got up, took a shower, and laid back down on the couch for a minute. Before I knew it, I was asleep again. I guess I was really tired (Probably from the weird ass dreams the other night!)

Anyway, I wake up to something on my face. It startled me, and I open my eyes to see B sitting right in front of me.
"Wow. I kissed you, and you woke up! Like Sleeping Beauty."
"And you're my Prince Charming."

When I think of this story, I don't so much think of "Aww!" I think it's hilarious. I think of how amazed he was that I woke up, and I just laugh. It was like a boy tinkering around with a toy or machine and figuring out what makes it do what. And if my boyfriend is good for anything, it's making me laugh. (And I guess loving me is pretty high up there too...)

AND, As promised!

A LOLCAT to soothe your worries away. And okay, fine! It was extremely appropriate too. :-) I saw it, and I laughed out loud. Here at work. Woo for showing everyone how crazy I am! ;-)

kthxbai.

I know part of me is hurting because I'm losing a friend, just another friend that I had a great connection with is gone out of my life. I've seen many come and go here. Hell, I've been here almost 2 years now and only 4 people are still here. And all of them are managers.

It's almost made me close off. Don't make friends with people at work. You'll just watch them leave as you sit still. Watching them as the continue with their lives past this, leaving you behind. Left in the dust they kick up.
I've never been this sad, but I've never had such a great partner. Depending on who we were talking to, I was either his assistant or he mine. He's a great guy, and we're lucky to have ever had a moment of his time.

But another part of me was hurting because...well, I feel like I'm behind. Like, I'm not doing well enough in life, like I should be doing better.

My friend was a year older than me, and just graduated in December. A semester late. Which, if you do the math, would mean that I 'should' be scheduled to graduate in May.
And...*Ugh* I totally don't see me even getting one college credit by that time.

And do you have any idea how almost completely depressing that is?

It fills me with all kinds of thoughts. I feel like I'm watching everyone start their lives, their own personal marathons, and here I am still standing on the side lines. Not moving an inch, not going anywhere. And I hate that feeling.

My passion for our future, my desire to see our dreams come to fruition is so deep, I don't know if I could withstand seeing them wither away.
And yet, here I am. In the same place I've been for the last 2 years. I haven't even been promoted, still in the exact same position.

Later that day, I got an email from BF's dad's wife (Which is not his step-mom. Don't even think it could even possibly be true) And the words she wrote were so wise, such great advice, and most of all? So needed. It's like she knew exactly what I was thinking and feeling, and picked the perfect time to tell me that, Hey, It's okay. Quit worrying, you basket-case.

Good things are in store for you, [Bee]. Just keep getting up every day and doing the things that need to be done. Dreams are good to have, so hang on to them. They don’t all come true, of course. The only ones that will come true are the ones that you make a plan for. My son, [Luke], always says that his dream is to be a millionaire. Well, that’s a great dream. I wish he had a chance in hell of becoming a millionaire; but he has no plans for how to get there. Hmmm. I guess he thinks he’s just going to wake up one day and money will be falling out of his bedroom ceiling. More likely, he’ll wake up one day and be homeless, but I guess he has to figure that out for himself. I’d probably be doing him a huge favor if I let that day come sooner, rather than later. Anyhow, my point is, you have all the tools to be successful. You’re exactly where you are supposed to be in life. Don’t compare yourself to anyone else. Don’t measure yourself with anyone else. Set your goals, write them down, then start striking them from your list as you complete them. You’ll watch other people get all the breaks in life. Don’t let this interfere with your plan. Just complete your items, slow and steady; and have fun along the way. One day you’ll realize you’re on the other side of the mountain and you’ll reminisce about all the good times you had while you were failing and succeeding and slowly making your way over the top. Make friends, [Bee]. You’ll need them.

I wish I knew exactly how to thank her. Because those words? Weren't only music to my ears, they were like the salve to soothe my worries, my anxiety about my/our future, and that? That was so very welcomed.

I cried, out of pain for losing a friend, out of hope that her words are more true that I know, and out of relief.

And it was then, after reading these words, and saying goodbye to my friend that I watched come and then move right on past me, that I'm not standing still. I'm simply going at a different pace than everyone else. I'm taking a different path. There might be some people that pass me by, but they're not me. And I don't march to the beat of their drummer, I march to mine.
And that is so very, very okay.
I realize now that we have a plan that we've actually completed successfully, and what the hell, I will get my turn some day.

I will clear this mountain. Quit being so impatient, Bee.

And that's my biggest New Year's resolution. To take everything one step at a time. Concentrate on getting BF through school, concentrate on being a great girlfriend, and most of all concentrate on enjoying every minute of it. Because it won't last forever. It will pass me by so quickly, I'll wonder where it all went.

And, luckily, that's something I've always been good at. Concentrating on the NOW and not on the future. Sure, sometimes I want to push fast forward, but that's not life. I've got so much to enjoy right now.

And I can't believe I'm so lucky.

The holidays are terribly dramatic around these parts. It has a lot to do with the fact that B and I are together, and uhhhh...We didn't exactly get together under the greatest of circumstances. And therefore his brother hates us, blahblahblah. That's a story for a different day.

Every year, especially for Christmas it's this big dramatic ordeal because his brother, the douchebag, refuses to eat with us present. He's missed the past 2 Thanksgivings, and every year for Christmas we have to have separate present-opening times, and separate meals. AND OMIGOD, I can't take it anymore.

The fact of the matter is that his brother has made his family make a decision between him and us. And they love everybody equally, but since DBB (Douchebag Brother) threatens not to come, they always make arrangements that are acceptable for him. Because LORD HELP US if we inconvenience HIM! Even though he's inconveniencing them.
It just astounds me. How they, year after year, allow him to push them around. It doesn't help the situation that DBB is not exactly mentally stable.

And it's totally normal, if not a little bit awkward, for anyone that hasn't been around the situation for the past 4 holiday seasons. They all take it in stride, and accommodate him in any way they can, but for those of us that have been through it 4 too many times, we're done. We're sick of the drama, I'm sick of feeling like a 2nd class citizen, and everyone's just SICK of it all!

This year, I hope at least, that it'll be a little bit different. It's starting with Thanksgiving. We're all invited to the same Thanksgiving. If he doesn't feel like showing up, at either one of them (One here for B's Mom and one in another state for B's Dad and Grandparents), then he doesn't get to spend Thanksgiving with them. He misses out on an(other) important holiday with his family. And that will be his fault.

I think they all finally realize that I'm not going anywhere. I love their son (And grandson) and I will love him for the rest of my life. And we would be married if it weren't for the whole money issue.

All this to say that I'm hopeful for the future. I feel like I no longer have to dread the impending drama every year. Maybe, just maybe, there's hope. Maybe I'll even ENJOY this holiday season! Ahh, that'll be nice!