Already crying my eyes out.
my decision will have to be made. =\ I’ll be crying my eyes out for a month. </3
This is me. Nothing more and nothing less. No make up no fancy clothes no smile. Just me half asleep in a mountain of pillows wondering where life is headed.
I’m 22 now and I’m currently walking the line between waiting expectantly for love, and giving up all together. Before I get too deep into this letter, I want to apologize for the trouble this may cause you. I’m sure it was probably difficult for you to convince me that you really loved me, to get me to admit that I loved you, and to trust that you would never hurt me or break my heart. I’m sure you know me well enough to understand why it was so difficult for me though. If I haven’t yet, I want to thank you for putting up with everything I carried with me into our relationship, For sticking it out and staying by me, and for not giving up when it was probably the easier option. You must really love me to deal with all of that, to deal with me. If I never say it, I want you to know how much it means to me that you do, how much you probably mean to me, how much I care. Words, words can’t possibly describe it though. The simplest way to know is to see it in my eyes, in the way that I always reach for you automatically, and for the secret smiles I throw your way despite the fact that I hate my own smile. If that’s not enough then know that If you got me to agree to marry you, then chances are you mean more to me than anyone. You got me to dismiss my cynical beliefs on love and give in and give it a chance. I look forward to life with you, and hope that by now you understand what certain things mean to me. If so then I expect to find a room dedicated to reading. I don’t expect us to live in a large house with a build in library, but I expect something. I always promised myself that I would have a library in my home.. Even if it meant getting a two bedroom apartment and fitting one room with wall to wall bookshelves purchased at wallmart. Put a big comfy armchair in the center and my library is complete. It may not be fancy, but its a sanctuary all its own. In any case, you should know that you’re welcome in there any time. Maybe I’m wrong but I imagine us sitting side by side, maybe curled into one another, each of us reading a separate book but doing so together. Hopefully you can follow my sporadic thought process and writing, otherwise none of this will make much sense. All reading quirks aside, you should know that I look forward to waking up beside you, to holding your hand, and seeing you smile. I’m sure I love watching the way you look when you’re in thought, or when you’re watching football or baseball (or any sport you really like). I appreciate you in ways that I can’t speak or mention or even really wrap my brain around. I just thought you should know.
Whenever it is that we meet, I’m sure I’ll be a bit different from the woman I am when we do marry, but I’m hoping to be enough for you.
-Your future wife.
I’ll be doing some heavy packing. My room already feels empty but I hadn’t even packed that much.. just Pictures, my movies, video games, and my little knick knacks..I still don’t know what to do.
Everyone back home wants me to go back home, and it’s an option, but just barely. Everything is so fucked back there that… I don’t even have a home to go home to.. so, it doesn’t feel like the option it should be..
It’s all up to what you think, but every time I try to ask you, you get more enjoyment out of mocking my voice than answering the fucking question. Do I stay or do I go?
Let me be clear though, living alone, totally not an option for me. I have a crippling fear of living alone. The idea that no one else is in the house when I’m asleep, or when I wake up. It terrifies me. So if I stay here, you’re kind of stuck with me because I know no one else, and I trust no one else.
If I go home, I’ll probably get a place with my cousin and her boyfriend. Which honestly, isn’t that bad except that they’re house is always open to anyone they know and they smoke weed every two fucking seconds. The first one wouldn’t be bad, except that I don’t know any of their friends… the second thing, just no. sorry. I’m not about to put myself in a situation where the apartment next to us calls the cops because they can smell your smoke down the hall. I will murder someone if they get me arrested for something I don’t do/never have done.
There is always anthony…but the dude cares more about pimping his ride than moving out of his mothers house. So. I’m kind of at a standstill here.. I need better options and I need you to start communicating. Most of the time I don’t care if you make fun of how I talk, but This time I’m being serious, this shit is serious..
Being totally indecisive isn’t helping matters. One option seems out of reach as no one is doing anything to help it. The second, though an option, isn’t one I’m comfortable with because one of the parties involved well I don’t know them. Final option tastes like defeat.
Home. I don’t want to go home. I love Boston, but my family has a way of stressing me out and getting under my skin like no one else.
So with options like that… What does one choose?
I don’t even know where to start to be honest. About 3 month ago, my mom got hurt at work, and because of it, she isn’t allowed to work…except that her work refuses to pay her and she’s been in a battle with them over it since. She had to move out of her apartment and get a cheaper one, except now she doesn’t think she can pay rent next month. so what does she do? well she sold all my stuff, or she’s starting to.
-rewind-
When I moved to Kentucky, I took whatever could fit in my galant, which isn’t big enough to stuff your whole life into. In fact I had to leave behind most of it. I was panicked over it, until my mother (who at the time was still with my step-father and lived in the house SHE OWNED) Told me not to worry because she could send some out little by little, or keep it there because. “your room will still be here for when you visit, or if you come back.” Of course that mentality was taken away when she cheated on the guy, let him keep HER HOUSE THATS STILL IN HER FUCKING NAME and got an apartment with her new boyfriend.
-FF-
so, now she’s starting to sell my things…My barbie collection, 50 barbies all worth between $70 and $180. yup she sold them, BUT FOR $5 DOLLARS EACH AT A YARD SALE AND THEN COULDN"T UNDERSTAND WHY I WAS PISSED. She sold my reading chair, and I refuse to let her sell anything else. I just don’t know how to go about doing that. All of my books are with her, baseball cards, photographs and wall art…most of my CDs and Movies, my DVD player, my playstation, and clothes. My keepsake boxes that have all my memories like old plane tickets and pen-pal letters. It seems like everything that ever meant anything is with her, and could be sold or thrown away and I can’t do a damn thing about it because out here, I’m just making ends meet.
I know that I should feel bad for her, and the fact that she says she’ll be “homeless” but I somehow can’t. She put this all on herself when she cheated, when she gave up HER HOUSE. She’ll have a place to live because my family is huge and half of them lived with us for years at a time before, they won’t let her not have a place to live. She’d exaggerating because that’s what she does. My opinion has been shoved away, and I’m about to love everything I built up.
my options to go get it? Selling my car and using the money to move back home.. except, I NO LONGER HAVE A HOME TO GO BACK TO. because my step-father gave my room to one of his friends who didn’t have a home..some jackass gets my bed, awesome. so basically that would leave me stranded in boston with no car, and all my shit, but no home. Oh, and no best friend because he won’t come with. I’ve already asked, he’s content to stay here… I’m so screwed.
Excuse me while I finally let this consume me and have the worlds largest panic attack.
Birthday gifts from my Kentucky family: monkey stuffed animal, picture album, cards and money. <3 22 tomorrow. >.<