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Why am I awake?

I feel like I'm fourteen again.

A lot of people would look at that statement and think, "Wow, good for you!" Except that for me, fourteen was one of the most miserable years of my life. It's when I was diagnosed with chronic insomnia and would be awake between 24-72 hours at a time. That's about how long the migraines lasted, too, if they ever really went away. I should have been dead. I should have been hallucinating and delirious. I was prescribed some generic sleeping med by a doctor who didn't take it very seriously, doubled the dose under the recommendation of my mother, and eventually gave up because all it would do is make me feel like I was going to be sick. Or maybe that was from not sleeping. Who knows.

So yeah. When I say I feel like I'm fourteen, I don't mean it as a positive thing.

It's an easy way to say I haven't been sleeping, and I've had the same headache for what... four or five days now? I'm honestly losing track. Thinking real hard, I don't think I've slept more than 6 hours in the past 5 days, which mind you, is not nearly as bad as the shit I used to pull when I actually was 14, but is still pretty bad. Especially since I'm pushing 30 now.

Augh, what a gross thing to say.

So why. Why am I not sleeping, you ask?
Stress. It's definitely stress.

I could boo-hoo for hours about how I miss Jesse, and how the tension in the house is going to give me a stomach ulcer, and how I'm sick of dealing with the technicalities of moving (like utility management), but I think one particular event really frames the causation of my state of mind with utmost clarity. Like, really, if you need to hear about one thing to understand why I have reverted to days of insomnia past, this little detail of my seemingly never ending ordeal of caring for my mother and dealing with my "family" will really just... take the cake.

Someone reported me to the Department of Aging for... here it comes, are you ready? They reported me for abusing my mother.

HA again HA again

Yeah, sorry, I had to double up on my memes just to highlight the sheer FARCICALITY OF SUCH A STATEMENT.
The whistle blower, who asked to remain anonymous (imagine my shock), made claims including but not limited to the following...

  1. Luann is starved while Myste and Luke go out to eat! Recently, they went out to a restaurant and Luann was forced to eat a can of green beans for dinner because there's no food in the house!!!

  2. Myste always claims there's no money for food! She's stealing Luann's paychecks and spending all of the money on herself and her friends!

  3. Luann is subjected to psychological abuse! Myste says she's not going to let her see her kids! And she tells her all the time to, "just die!"

  4. Myste doesn't manage Luann's pills! Luann never gets her medication and that's why she ends up in the hospital all of the time!

  5. Luann is not allowed to do her laundry!!! She has no clean clothes!!! And has to sleep in dirty bed sheets!!!

  6. Myste is abandoning Luann and doesn't care what happens to her!!! She didn't give any warning to her leaving!!!

Can I post the meme again? I think I need to.
HA again

Let's tackle these one by one.

1. No food in the house, really? That's interesting, considering my relatively impressive stockpile of bulk foods in the garage, that I had to buy shelves for because there was no where to store it all. It's also interesting because there were three days of leftovers in the fridge at the moment of this investigation, and I had been planning to make fish sandwiches that night, the fancy Mancini's sausage rolls already partially prepped and sitting out on the counter. Not to mention the table jammed so hard with food, shit literally was falling off of it. Also not to mention the cabinets filled with boxed meals. ALSO NOT TO MENTION the two boxes of frozen meals she got from some "meals on wheels" equivalent that have been sitting in the freezer for months, getting freezer burn. There's so much food in this house, it makes me sick. If the apocalopolypse struck tomorrow, we'd be good for like... two months.

I mean really? Come on. I post photos of the meals I make (FROM SCRATCH, COUGH) on facebook pretty regularly. No one would ever be able to accuse me of starving my mother. Not only is she fed consistently, but she is fed very, very well. -_-

Those leftovers I mentioned? Just for the record. Mexican soup with crunchy tortilla strips, shredded cheddar, sour cream, and fresh parsley (because cilantro smells like stink bugs and tastes like soap) for garnish. Skillet chicken made in a garlic cream sauce with sun-dried tomatoes, served over rice with steamed broccoli. Steak salad from Doughboy's, complete with steak, lettuce, tomatoes, olives, onions, cheese, and french fries. Yeah, french fries, because Pittsburgh.

That's not to mention the 24 eggs, the giant container of baby spinach, the expensive pink grapefruit fruit cups, the sweet Italian sausages, the two different types of turkey + ham + variety cheese + fancy buns I buy for sandwiches, or the cabbage and noodles that were all there for the eye to see.

Does this sound like someone who is starving? No. No, it fucking does not.
The lady walked over, opened the fridge, raised her eyebrows at me, and denied my offer to show her my garage stockpile. I guess she saw everything she needed in that regard.

2. Stealing her paychecks? First of all, she doesn't get paychecks. She gets a disability check from the government that she could never live off of. After the mortgage, she is left with less than $200 -- which, since we're on the subject, is what her fancy every-channel-plus-a-DVR cable costs. $214, to be precise. The only reason she has a roof over her head, expensive cable, hoards of fresh food, a car, clothes, bedding, furniture, etc is because of the money I bring in.

And what money do I spend on my friends, exactly? Luke pays for stuff far more often than I do. I sneak in when I can, but that's not often. Beth's family also treats me to lunch any time we go out with T, so I'm not really sure what that's about either. I just told Jesse not to do anything grand for Valentine's Day because I can't afford to reciprocate this year. I haven't even bought Luke a birthday gift yet, and don't know what I'm going to do about that.

What I have done is blown the $1200 I managed to save over the course of several months on a new water heater and repairing the furnace in a house that, I'm constantly reminded, is not mine. So wow. Look at all that money I waste on myself. Although you know, I did recently buy an $11 game I had been wanting for a long time, because it was 44% off. Bought it with the paypal money Starr gave me for Christmas, in addition to the Crypt of the Necrodancer DLC and really beautiful commissioned artwork of Sari. Another friend I waste money on, for sure.

In a recent fight, my mother had the audacity to bring up the years I spent working for Elana when sometimes I'd get less than $300 for a full month of work, claiming she "supported us" then. Right. You supported us with your government handouts, while I was out there busting my ass, working for literal pennies, getting ripped off because if I worked a real job, our food stamps would have been cut off (which they were). Fuck you, lady.

3. Psychological abuse. I wish that DoA worker could hear some of the shit my mother calls me, or says to me. I wish she could hear what she tells the paramedics when in the throws of encephalopathy about me. I wish she, and whoever made the fucking report, could live a single day in my shoes, or to deal with the garbage my "family" throws at me. If anyone is being psychologically abused in this relationship, it's ME. But I digress. I have used this journal to vent my frustrations with her for years. You people, who subject yourselves to the misfortune of reading my half-crazed ramblings, know this to be true. But in all of those entries, I'm quite certain that in addition to the venting and yes, admittedly, saying I wish she'd just die, I struggle with my feelings of resentment and very clearly state that though I want to, I have never said any of these things to her face.

After relaying that claim the lady asked, "Miss, do you have any children?" No. No, I don't. Though I did admit that recently I had told my mother that she had best be careful with how she talks to me because if she keeps it up, I'm not going to let her see any future kids I have. This was after she told me Jesse was going to leave me and when he does, not to "come crawling back here to me."

What kicked off that altercation was her confronting me all, "U HAET ME, DON'T U???!!!?!" to which I, relentlessly provoked, responded with, "Why wouldn't I?! Look at the shit you do and say to me!" Hey, I'm only human. And you know, it's probably true. I have no problem admitting it if she's going to corner me. She's earned it.

4. Her pills. I had a genuine chuckle at this one. Without a word, I got up, walked over to my mother's weekly AM/PM pill planner which I had filled just the previous night, and set it down in front of her. I also set down the list of medications/allergies/contact info I have written out for the paramedics when I have to call them, and her full basket of pills and supplements for the woman to see. If there is one thing I do very right, it's manage her medicine. Nobody else laughed.

5. Laundry. She's not allowed to do her laundry? What the actual hell? Ask Luke how many days he had to wait while she did her laundry, because she let it sit down there for so long, she'd have to rewash loads to get rid of the mildew smell. We were both waiting at least five days to do our laundry because she has no consideration for anyone else in the household. She knew we were waiting, too. I assume this is about me recently telling her to carry her own dirty laundry down into the basement after she let it sit in the livingroom for a day before finally asking me to.

She had over stuffed a very small basket and there was no way for me to carry it down without bracing it against my body. There was a pair of her underwear sticking out of the side. It wasn't heavy. Fuck that. Carry your own dirty, stinking clothes. Notable, I carried it all up for her, and only don't when Luke does. So that's bullshit all around.

6. I'm abandoning my mother without warning. Oh, and I don't care what happens to her. Right. So back last year sometime, there's a convenient little entry about it just over yonder, I was told with no uncertainty that she owned my house and was kicking me out. She'd already been in contact with a realtor she claimed, and didn't want me in her house anymore. My mother did not object to this. So I started looking for alternatives. Then again last August, she informed me that her boyfriend was going to retire sometime that year (2017) and that I better start "looking for other living arrangements" because she was moving in with him. Again, no uncertainty in the statements, just facts. I did what I was told. Or rather, I got lucky in the reappearance of Jesse and his most undeserved love and want for me to be near him. I don't understand it. I speculate that I never will. But it's there. And with Luke's meltdown and the ticking clock on his ability to ride in his parents' insurance boats, it all just seemed... right. I had found a place to go, Luke was going, and my mother and Sue got exactly what they were asking for.

And yet, now I'm suddenly abandoning my mother without warning?

I believe it was... December, when I first told my mother of my plans to move to Indiana. There was no set date then, but she knew it was an ASAP deal. I was very clear that after meeting Jesse, I just did not want to be away from him, and that we were house hunting together. How's that for uncertain terms?

Aaaaaaaaaaaanyway....... There were other small things that were easily dismissable due to the blatancy of their untruthfulness, but these were the big ones. When I asked the woman if I should be worried, she shook her head at me and said something along the lines of, "I don't want to get involved in family matters," which to me, seemed to imply that she recognized the report was just PETTY GARBAGE that had not even an iota of truth in it. In fact, she informed us that our case worker, Emmett, was due to visit later that day. You know, the guy who works for the company in charge of paying me... and he was so unconcerned with the claims that he didn't even bring it up. Not a word about it. IMAGINE THAT, WHYDONTCHA.

Magically, no one in the family wants to take credit for it. They all tried to pin it on Anthony, who I actually still speak to. I sent him a message asking if he had done it and he was like, "lol????? wat?????" and then proceeded to express that if he had a problem with how I cared for her, he'd have attempted to speak to me directly. He also wished me the best in moving to Indiana, which aside from Mandy, no one else has done.

Lucy is denying it, but I know it was her. She's a spoiled rotten drunk who has attempted to shame me publicly on Facebook for not accepting her money when she tried to send us $100 that we didn't need. "Ungrateful little bitch!!!!!" I believe was the accusation.

So yeah. I spent most of that day hiding from everyone that all I was doing during my alone time was crying. When my mom approached me later that day and said, "r u going 2 do ur job????" by way of asking if I was making dinner, I told her to go fuck herself with her asshole family and leave me the hell alone. J/K, I just said no because we had too many leftovers and I had not slept and consequently had a very bad headache, all true.

I'm so glad I'm getting out of this situation. I don't want the 20th to get here because I don't entirely want to go. There's a lot here worth holding on to. But on that same note, I can't fucking wait to get out of this shithole of a family and never be even indirectly involved with any of them ever again. (:

Huh. That was a long entry. I guess I needed to vent or something. o: Weird.
Now I'm going to go sleep.

..................................................Haha. Best joke in the whole entry right there. Oh, me!
I've begun to dismantle my life in hopes of reassembling it someplace better.

I'm not sure why it's taken me so long to write about it. I suppose everything is just rather overwhelming. While I know it will be just that, better, it's still a difficult thing to leave everything you love, and hate, and know. For better or worse, I grew up here. There are places, such as the Dependable Drive-In, that hold a very special place in my heart and memories. I am genuinely hurt to leave it behind. It's not terribly practical to pack up an entire drive-in, though, so behind it stays. All the same, there are other places, such as the McKees Rocks ghettos, that I will be absolutely delighted to leave in my wake and never revisit.

There are also people, mostly people I want to fade into the obscurity of my past, but others that I fear I'll lose.

I recently told the kids I was leaving them. I don't know what I expected from their reactions, but it wasn't what I got. I was mostly met with what appeared to me to be... indifference. While I know that's not true, they seemed to be far more okay with it than I thought they'd be. It hurt a little. My first thought was, "Maybe they don't love me as much as I thought." That's just melodramatic nonsense though, isn't it? ...Isn't it? I think the more probable reason is that they just don't need me anymore.

There was a point in time where those kids definitely needed me. Alex, especially. But he's getting older now, as are they all. The problems they had just after Brian died have sort of fizzled out, and while I don't doubt that perhaps they'll need me in certain ways at certain points as they age, right now? I've done my job. I did my duty. I fixed what I needed to fix, and now it's time to move on.

It makes me want to cry. I hope they miss me, selfishly. Because I'm going to miss them so much, it already hurts.

Mandy, too. I told her about it and she did the, dare I say, big sister thing. "Are you sure? Are you rushing into it? I support you, but I want to be sure you've thought it through." And the most supportive, loving thing that has been said to me by anyone after announcing this move, "If you need me to drive five hours to come get you, I'll drive five hours to come get you."

Thanks, Mandy. I'm not sure that you'll ever read this, but that means more to me than I can express. While I'm certain I'll never need to call upon you to do such a thing, because I have thought this through and I am sure, it means the world to me that you'd extend that offer. You have... no idea. ><

In addition to the kids and Mandy, I'm also leaving Luke. He's heading back to Iowa to get his life together, because damn does he need it. The original plan was for him to come to Indiana too, but that's just not going to happen at this point in time. He's emotionally unstable, and not in a way that I can fix. In fact, I'm pretty sure all I do is make it worse. I really hope he'll be okay, though.. I'm not certain of it, but I have to let go. I have to let my baby brother sink or swim on his own now, because fact of the matter is that he is not a baby. He's an almost 25-year-old who needs to pave his own way if he is ever going to figure out where he belongs. He's also taking Mari. ;-; She is his cat, but I'm going to miss her.

In addition to the kids, Mandy, and Luke, I'm also in a way leaving Beth. We used to be pretty far from eachother, but things are different now. We're not kids anymore either, we can't just have her fly in for a month long sleepover. We'll probably not spend the holidays like we used to, and things will be more complicated than her driving an hour to pop in. I'm extremely uncomfortable with this as well. Beth can probably be counted as my only real-life friend, despite our interweby beginnings. And now I'm leaving that. I'm afraid it's going to affect our friendship in a negative way. I'm afraid it's going to fade away.

There are also other people, like T and my mother. I hate to leave T, and have mixed feelings about my mother. But they both weigh on me in different ways. Even Kenny and his household are going to be difficult to never see again. Then there are more minor people, like the guys who have come to know Luke and me at the Dependable, and the girl who recognizes us from Hunan Wok. Though minor, they've played roles in my life that have been long-running.

For someone who has lived a life of limbo for so long, I re-entered the flow of time without even realizing it. Now it's taken upon a life of its own and become a bit of a runaway train. There's nothing I can do to stop it, and I'm not sure I would if I could. Afterall, it's inaccurate to say I'm leaving everything I love. I am moving away from a lot, but also recognize that I'm moving toward a lot. Maybe even more than I'm leaving. I'm moving toward Jesse, and our life together. Whatever that brings, he and his family are going to welcome me with open arms.

And I truly do believe it will be a better life. Not just for me, but for him, too. It's the start of something new.
While I'm very nervous about it, I'm also really looking forward to when it finally happens.

February 20th will be my last day as a Pennsylvania resident.
I'll miss it, but it also can't come soon enough.

Later Days

"You will make change for the better."

Terrible grammar aside, that was the fortune I got the other day. Even though it came from a cookie, I like to think it's true. I am about to make a very big change and I really hope it's a good one. I fully expect it to be, save for a few things that may cause some bumps along the way (mainly my mother and Luke). There's only a little over a month left until I move to Indiana. I am excited and scared and a little overwhelmed.

But not as scared and overwhelmed as I could be. I really do feel better here. No migraines yet, and only small bouts of anxiety.

Related, I met Jesse's friend, Christian, the other day. He said he was heading over and I got a little nervous, but then he came around and I was fine. I didn't even have the thought to be anxious, which is crazy for me. It makes me wonder if I am a socially anxious person, or if my life is just so stressful, I can't function properly. I digress. Christian, I actually rather like the guy. He was nice and included me, joked around a lot, made conversation that I could participate in (which I did), and it was just very chill. Jesse fucked off for something at one point, and Christian and I just kept casually talking as if it was as normal as anything. That was a nice feeling. In the past, I've worried about fitting into his group of friends. Would they even like me. But you know, I think it'll be okay. They're good guys, from what I can tell. It's a big relief. I want to meet their wives and maybe make a friend or two of my own. It's certainly got some potential.

Moving along, I finally saw the house. Jesse closed on it on the 5th and we headed down the following day to stay the night. It's not a bad house, but it certainly comes with a few challenges. It's not the house I'd have chosen. Not at all. But I don't dislike it. There are things about it I love, others I like, some about it I dislike but can live with, and then a thing or two that makes me hate it. So we're pretty balanced.

I love that I'm going to be living in it with Jesse, obviously. I love that it has two bathrooms, one with a very nice shower in it, and the other with a pretty okay one (even if the mongoloids put on the handle the wrong way, and we consequently can't get hot water until it's fixed). I love that it's got full trees and a large yard, and that the stars are just... amazing.

I like the kitchen and livingroom and overall layout. I like the big closet in the master bedroom. We're not sure what it's going to be used for yet, but it's got a lot of potential for a lot of different things.

I dislike that I'm not going to be able to climb out onto the roof, but really, it hardly matters since it's a single story house. I dislike that too, but can live with it. I dislike the lack of basement, because who doesn't have a basement? Where do I put all of the extra things that we don't really need? It has a particular lack of storage, and between the two of us, Jesse and I have some shit, let me tell you. I'm going to downsize as much as I can but when you're 27 years old, you've accumulated stuff. I also dislike that the yard is not fenced, but that's no big thing, right? Just buy a lead and hook Conan every time he needs out.

Yeah, cept for the fucking neighbors who let their dogs run wild in packs. Is that really a thing? I hate it. That's what I hate about the house. Conan is not good with other dogs, and the particular three across the street are aggressive shits. I cannot trust putting my dog out on a leash because I don't know if they're going to come over and fuck him up. I'm going to guess yes because not only do they chase down (and get in front of) vehicles as they attempt (key word) to drive by. The leader of the three also threatened Jesse as he walked out to get the mail. It backed off, ran back across the street, but it still threatened him. No doubt they'll do the same to me, and what if there's a child in the future? Is the kid going to be able to get a foot away from me without the neighbor's pack of dogs descending upon them?

e_e I thought we had problems with the asshole who walked his dogs off leash in the back alley of my current house. This neighbor makes that guy look like a godsend. I really don't know what's going to happen in regards to that.

It had me pretty worked up. On the way back to Noblesville the next morning, things really got to me. The reality of what I'm doing -- leaving my entire life, everything I have ever known, behind -- really struck. Nothing will ever be the same again. You can't go home again, huh? I won't be able to. I'm burning bridges. There is no going back, and it really scares me.

My whole life is going to change. I'll absolutely have to start driving. I'll need to get a real job and adhere to a schedule. I'll have to let go of control and work my life around another person. It's going to be a challenge to me, but you know, at least they're normal challenges. In a way, I'm looking forward to them.

I'm leaving everything I know and everything I am, but I'm moving toward something so much better. Even though it's not perfect, it is. It's perfect. I'll be sad to leave, but happy to arrive. That's good. That's the way it should be, right? Because it means you weren't living a meaningless life, and what's ahead will be even better.

I'm really only very sad about Luke. The way he's acting, I think I'm going to lose him. Offhandedly I say, "Well, there's just one more family member I've lost along the way," but it's not as easy as that. This one really hurts. They've always hurt, but this one will hurt the most. Partially, because I really do love him. Luke is my little brother as far as I am concerned, and I love him despite all of his stupid issues. Mostly though, it'll hurt more because it's just so unnecessary.

He's a bit unhinged. Even if I weren't going to Indiana, I'd send him back to Iowa to get some help. He needs it. He needs a professional to teach him coping mechanisms so he can survive life's turbulence. God knows, I can barely keep his head above water. I think it will be good for him, though, to go back to a live without obligation or struggle and figure himself out a little more. This will only be true if he actually seeks out a therapist and actively tries to improve... which I'll cross my fingers for.

This trip has been a bit of a roller coaster. That's life, I guess. The day I let things overwhelm me, Luke lost his marbles a little and contributed to my already crushing mood. It was bad. I wanted to find a hole and hide in it. I wanted to cry, really. It was silly and irrational, but those moods people get into often are. That night though, Jesse stayed curled up to and around me most of the night, and everything felt a lot better. I used his kindle to read several chapters of my favorite series of books (Odd Thomas) while he slept beside me, and the world was right again.

About that. In the past, I've thought about and longed for that situation. There's no more comfortable space in life than laying with your significant other asleep beside you, reading a good book. I find I always pictured it in front of a big brick fireplace, but you know, I didn't miss it. It was everything I thought it would be. I wanted to acknlwedge that I sort of finally experienced that scenario, and it felt as nice as I thought it would. It's one of those tiny, sweet moments that just mean the world to me.

Jesse said to me earlier that he thinks just existing with me will be a good life. I agree. Existing with him will be a good life. It already is, even with the few bumps we've hit. I enjoy everything we do together, and even the things we do apart. He's over there gaming with the boys again, and I'm here with headphones, my livejournal, and plans to play Civ. I can look over and see him and make terrible, goofy faces at his back (;3) with him being none the wiser. He occasionally turns around to smile or goof at me, and it is. It's a good life.

It's going to be a good life.
Later Days~

I'm going to add a song to this eventually, I think. I really want it to have one, but I just can't find one that fits. Ah well. Later.

Sleepless In Noblesville

It's 2018 now. I had grand plans for New Year's. Beth, Luke, and Jesse were going to be there. I was going to ask my mom to make her bacon wrapped water chestnuts, I was gonna make a spinach dip served with slices of baguette, we were going to get a sweet champagne to toast, and I even had my eyes on a shrimp ring.

Then Beth had to work. Luke got sick. I got sick. And the nail in the coffin, I got pink eye.
As an adult. Out of no where. In both eyes.
What is this madness.

So needless to say, none of it happened. My mom, Luke, and I watched the ball drop while I was on the phone with Jesse, and everyone went their separate ways. It was a pretty lackluster end to 2017. Sad, because Steve Harvey hosted Fox's NY New Year's Eve thing, and that would have been just perfect for me and Beth. Missed opportunities all around.

The biggest disappointment was that I'd been planning to go back to Indiana with Jesse on the 2nd, because he's closing on the house on the 5th and I really wanted to be there for that. I wanted to help him pack and do everything I could to be involved. This was going to be my home too. I didn't want to be a stranger walking into something already established. I wanted to establish this home with him. Having pink eye really got in the way of that. When it started clearing up, I decided I was determined to go anyway and theeeeen... my mother had an ammonia episode.

Fuck. Me.

I sent her to the hospital and told Jesse to forget the whole damn thing because life sucks and that's just the cards I've been dealt.

He took it really well. A little too well, honestly. "It's okay. Life has a way of fucking up all your plans, and I kind of expected something to go wrong with you," or something along those lines. Felt bad, man. We talked for a bit on the night of the 2nd, the eve of the failure that was plan B's mandate that I leave. After he was asleep, I churned over some things.

I realized that I was setting a particular precedence with Jesse that I didn't like. For starters, he fully expected life to fuck with everything we'd discussed. That's not so much a reflection on me, but I was still the vector. It was the second part that really got me. He expected something to go wrong with my life that would prevent me from being there. He expected to be the last wrung on the priority ladder.

It was a comment said offhandedly. Casually. Pure reactionary. He wasn't trying to guilt me or anything of the sort, and it didn't resonate at first. But the longer I stayed awake that night, the more I thought about it, and the more I disliked it. When would he become the priority, huh? When I moved in February? What assurance did he have that he would be even then? He should be. In lieu of children, he should be my first priority at this point in my life and relationship, and I was putting him second.

I was letting him down.

So I decided to change that. I waited for him to wake the next morning and asked if he'd still be willing to come get me, and he was. It was last minute. The plans had been abandoned. The pink eye was gone, but I'm still a little sick. Luke's fuckin' manically depressed. My mother is in the hospital. But you know what? Jesse is the priority. He's my priority and I wasn't going to let him down in this case. I wasn't going to set that precedence with him.

Now here I am, sleepless in seat-- err. Noblesville. Sleepless because I'm still sick and crawled away from him so I can cough and blow my nose without waking him up every ten minutes. Jesus, the boy drove 11 hours today because I asked him to. He deserves a night of rest.

Even still, you know, I'm not sure it had the impact I was hoping it would. I wanted it to be this grand revelation in his mind that wow, I wasn't going to let him down. I was going to come through for him when I said I would because I love him, and he deserves to not come in last place in my life. He's got a history of that. I don't want to be more of the same. I want to be the one who is different -- I want to be the one who is better.

As of right now, I guess it's just come off mostly as me being wishy-washy. I sprung it on him unexpected, and while I'm glad I'm here and he's glad I'm here, I just don't think I achieved what I wanted to achieve.

It's a turning point for me, but I'll have to wait until next time and just stand firm in my plans before I score any points. It's disappointing... but it is something I brought upon myself. So I'll work more and earn it.

Because you are my priority, Jesse.
And I don't want you to ever have reason to doubt me when I say I'll be there for you.

The closer you are, the more I see.

Still in Indiana, just for this final night. I told myself I'd stay in bed and just lay with Jesse even if I didn't sleep, but I sneezed one too many times, desperately needed a tissue, and have been sneezing ever since. @_@ So for the sake of letting him sleep before he takes the five hour drive, imposed upon him by none other than himself mind you, I'm back out in the kitchen.

Ah, ye ol' familiar kitchen. It is familiar. I look around and this place... it looks like "home." You know, the poetical home. I really do not want to leave it. I don't want to leave any of this. It does sound terrible. You can crucify me for it, but I'd be lying if I said I was looking forward to going back to Pennsylvania for any reason. Of course I miss Conan and Luke, but it's not a desperate thing. What I feel desperately is a strong need to be here. With Jesse.

I've never had a relationship like this before. It is entirely new to me, and I am hesitant to leave it. Hell, I've never had a life like this before. I genuinely considered, though just for a moment, telling everyone that I'm not coming back. Shame on me, right?

I just feel like I'm supposed to be here, and prying myself away is going to be awful.

I feel like I've lost some of my identity in this place. Some. More than some. A lot. Basically I've become a vastly different entity, someone freed of constant stress and tension. Someone happy, if not contented. Someone who feels safe and adjusted and right. An adult living her life with the person she wants to live it with. What a concept. It's almost as if life is supposed to be this way, especially at twenty-seven. You know, I've had just a single headache while I was here, and that was on the very first night after a nearly eight hour bus ride. So I've become a contented person who knows what she's doing with her existence rather than a migraine plagued basket case who is just keeping everyone's heads above water. I've lost my identity, but I've gained something more important.

I don't want to go.

While I was making dinner tonight, Jesse pulled out his guitar and stood around in the kitchen with me, playing. Afterwards, he put on a record (yes. a record.) and just sort of hovered around. Earlier, we'd laid down on the bed together and he fell asleep in my arms, and I just... ;-; What is this feeling? I feel so full. It's largely these little moments that have made all of the difference. And of course I know life wouldn't always be so idyllic. I'm not naive, I know the magic would lift some. We'd get sick of eachother eventually. I'd have to learn to drive and start working. Problems would arise. We'd find something to fight about. Daily chores would melt away into painful monotony. But I want that. Even all of that would be tinged with a brightness that has never existed in my life before.

"You're the most important thing in my life."

It's not untrue.

God, I'm just rambling now. There's so much I want to express, though. I want to, but I can't. It's not a feeling that words can touch. It doesn't even feel right trying. I just love him. A lot. And tomorrow, I'm going to be leaving. Delayed gratification, right...? That's what I've always lived by. That's what I've always reminded myself about when times were hard. Delayed gratification. The end goal will be further appreciated because of the effort and time it takes to achieve.

I'm tired though. And happy.
So can't I just stay here forever?

You heal my soul.

Here comes a really gushy post about my boyfriend. Sorry. It's necessary. I'm gonna say some crazy stuff and I want whoever reads this to please ignore me. And be gentle with my typoing. This is an unfamiliar keyboard and I'm prooooobably definitely going to ramble. That being said...

Yesterday Jesse and I drove two hours south to see a house that looked really amazing in photos. I thought maybe it could be the one he ended up buying. Unfortunately, photos show only what the seller wants you to see, not what's necessarily there. It was a charming house with a beautiful kitchen. Like... my dream kitchen? And a round foyer. And it was on three acres with a double car port and another large two-story barn garage. It was basically perfect. Except, you know, for the shitty insulation job, the leaking ceilings, and oh yeah, the giant cracks all over the damn house. The foundation was just awful. The house is basically a tear down. It was almost a waste of a trip.

It wasn't, though. Not for me. The ride down was really nice. We listened to his music, and while I didn't know hardly any of it, I liked most of it. I really liked hearing him sing it. That boy has quite a voice. I could listen to him all day long. Some people can learn to sing, but there's a difference between learning and having a natural affinity toward it. While a lot of people can sing quite well, there's always that one who just blows everyone else out of the water. Jesse is that one. Maybe I'm biased. Or maybe he's just that good. How I'm ever going to sing around him, I have no idea. Maybe I just never will. >.> He makes me want to, though, and that's a beautiful thing.

Just as we were starting home, Jesse's mom called him. I introduced myself because I felt silly sitting there listening, and the next thing I knew, we were on our way to their house.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahgod, press it, PRESS IT.

It turned out rather well, though, I think. I wish I had looked... you know. Less fat. But aside from that, it was nice. >< His mom gave me a hug and pulled me into helping her hang ribbons on their Christmas tree. We went out to see the horses, which was pretty cool. Then the three of us went downstairs into their fancy, sound insulated basement music studio (hnnng) where Jesse pulled out his folder of music and did some playing and singing.

Now, I knew he was talented. You can't hear him and miss that. But I know now that I had no idea just how talented. He can basically sit down with any instrument and just... play. I guess yesterday was the first time I'd really heard him go all out. I can't wait to see it again. It's captivating. Especially when he plays something he's written. I got to look at some of his old songs, and wow.

I didn't know it. But I think I've always loved him. Or, I would have if I'd have known him properly. That boy, goodness. He's a tortured soul, in his own words, and clearly always has been. There's one song he wrote when he was 14ish that makes you wonder how someone so young could possess such profundity. The level of intellectual depth is astounding. I'm not going to post any lyrics, but they're deep. He's deep. I don't know that he really realizes how much more-so than the everyday person. I know he doesn't know how good he is. He doesn't give himself nearly enough credit, and while I wish he could see himself the way I see him, the fact that he cannot really adds to the charm. Plus, it gives me a reason to keep telling him. I do like at least that part of it.

I was truly foolish to resist him for so long. Maybe I was the one in need of something real in my life. But that's for another entry.

Things just got better form there. His dad and dad's friend Mike came down to join us, and at his mom's prompting, the three of them started to play and sing together. Mother, father, and son. The connection, aaaauuuhhhh, it drives me wild. Jesse singing with his mom while his dad plays the guitar for them? How do you put words to something like that? It's something you have to see and capture in memory, because no digital replication could ever do it justice. Jesse ended up on drums, his dad was on an electric guitar, and his mom sang, and they were just amazing.

My exposure to live music is pretty limited. I was even more starstruck because of it. I couldn't stop watching him. Maybe it's because I look at him, and I see my future. I see my whole life. I see someone I don't deserve by any means, am not even in the same league with... and yet I know when I look at him, that he is mine. I spent some time looking at his parents, too, but really, I only had eyes for Jesse, and it was a struggle to tear them away. The struggle... it's real.

Shut up, Einstein. What do you know?

It didn't last nearly long enough, but while it did, it was amazing. Again, there just are not words. I could feel it, though, the music. They made me wish so badly that I could play. It's not too late, but I don't think I could ever be anywhere near their level.

After things fizzled down, Jesse and his mom sat down on the piano bench together. I went running for my phone which I had left in the other room, recording, but it was dead. It died right as I opened the camera application. I really wanted a photo of the two of them like that. It was so sweet. They played and sang together for a little while, and I fell in love all over again; with Jesse, with his family, with the moment, with that life.

South Dakota may not be on my radar anymore. This... what Jesse has here? I don't think anything else could ever compare. It's not worth leaving.

His parents were pretty great, too. I know I only saw them for a few hours and that it was in a very positive setting, but I feel like they actually love eachother. Jesse came from love. Maybe that's the difference. I know it wasn't all peaches and sunshine growing up, not by any means... but I do feel like he is as amazing as he is partially because of that loving start. He was a damn adorable child, by the way. Absolutely precious. I didn't get to spend the time looking at photos that I wanted to, but what I did see was super charming. .....Anyway. Uh. Right. His parents. At one point, his dad bent over to move a wire on the ground. I happened to be looking in that direction, and his mom made direct eye contact with me as she slapped his ass. She and I laughed over it together, and it was good.

I must have made a pretty decent impression on her. I desperately wanted to. I don't know why it's so important to me. I mean, I know why. But it's extra important for some reason. It goes deeper than just wanting my boyfriend's mom to like me. Maybe it's just because I miss my own mom -- not who she is now, but rather who she used to be. Maybe it's because we're similar in some ways, according to Jesse. I don't really know, but while the men were talking, she asked me in a low voice,

"So you like him, huh?"
"I do. I actually rather... think I love him."

As we were walking out the door, I gave her another hug and in return, she gave me a look.
You know. The mom look. The, "I like you, and you're ours now," look. Which, by the way, they said to me. I'm theirs now. ;-;

She also at some point asked when the wedding was. Hurr.
And his dad said I'd fit in juuuust fine after I cracked a KILLER JOKE AT THE END. The friend, Mike? When we were all exchanging names, he told me I could call him whatever, as long as I didn't call him Ted. Ted's his brother and they don't get along, or something. So at the end as we were saying our goodbyes, I looked at him, pointed with a finger gun and went, "So, Ted, right?"


Really though, I got big laughs and it made me feel good.
I'm so glad we went. I was nervous. So nervous. Nervous enough to not go at all, but I am so, so glad I did. It was perfect.

This is what life is supposed to be.
Now I'm going to go be sleepless next to my sleeping boyfriend and think about how lucky I am to be here.

Later Days.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

The last time I was truly away from my house for an extended period of time was when I was 16 going on 17 and got accidentally (on purpose) stranded in Florida for my birthday by Frank. That was over ten years ago, now. Aside from that, I managed to get away for three days to meet up with Luke for our Blue October concert in 2012, and then for another two for Michael's "graduation party." That was in, gee... 2013, I believe it must have been. So even counting those two trips, I've been literally no where for a minimum of four years. Yikes.

Four years it is though, because I'm currently in Indiana with Jesse.
I believe that also deserves a yikes. So yikes.

It's very difficult to get away. I left Luke and my mother alone for the first time ever. I left Conan without Sari for the first time ever. And I left Piper and Mari together for the first time ever. I'm only just very slightly... a lot nervous about all of that. It seems to be working out though. I've been gone since late Wednesday night, and it is now Saturday morning. Knock on wood, nothing has gone terribly wrong. I guess the house can function without me, though I still subscribe to the idea that it's partially dependent on luck. It would be a very different story if my mom had an ammonia episode, for example. Luke would have to deal with that, assuming he even noticed. Then he'd have to deal with the animals all by himself. Then he'd be all by himself. I don't like to think about it, so I'm plodding along, doing my best to remain oblivious.

He's a good brother. He's determined to hold down the fort so that I don't have to worry, and can have a good time. I appreciate that. The effort doesn't go unnoticed.

So about the visit. There's a few different things I want to touch on, so let's go in order.

1. Gary
On the bus ride down, I met an older gentleman named Gary. Luke and I were standing with him in line while waiting for my bus and we chatted briefly, so when we stopped for what ended up being an hour or so in Columbus, he and I gravitated toward eachother. Gary is part of a dying generation. A generation of good people who are determined to be that way for the sake of it. He was knowledgeable and skilled and dedicated to his family. He didn't say so, but I'm quite certain his wife was no longer with him. He had a son and daughter though, grown, and by the way he talked about them, I could tell he loved them a lot. I could tell he was a good guy too, because when a little Amish toddler looked at us, he smiled. Bad people don't smile at babies. They just don't.

I'm a little jealous of Gary's family. I wonder why I wasn't allowed such a positive male influence in my life; someone to learn from and be guided by. Whenever I come across someone like that, I walk away feeling cheated of something. What exactly, I can't really say, can I? But I know it's something vital and wonderful.

Anyway. Gary was one of those old world types. He was an army vet, probably from Vietnam. He'd recently had a heart attack and triple bypass surgery where they left the tip of a temporary pace maker inside of him. He raises honeybees. We talked about bees extensively. Apparently the honey bee is not native to the Americas. They came expressly from England. We also talked about how the bumble bee is aerodynamically inept, and yet still he flies, albeit not well.

"Well, the term bumbling along had to come from somewhere," I said. He laughed and remarked on how nobody appreciates words anymore (as I sat there in my grammar police shirt), and that launched us into a whole new line of conversation, complaining about the illiteracy of my generation of the next, and the corruption of the public school system.

We talked about a few other things; how conservatism is unpopular these days, but we persist anyway. I told him Jesse was getting into smithing, and he said it was admirable and was something he always wanted to try. He talked to me about building barns and his son's wedding, and Texas. Really, I guess we talked a lot. At the end, he stood up, shook my hand, and said something along the lines of, "Well Myste, that was a lovely conversation. Normally I'm the one who does the listening, but something about you made me want to talk." I really appreciated that. I really wanted to listen. He was a good man, and I wish him the best in his life. He's going to be one of those people who stay with me in my mind years down the road. That's why I wanted to write about him. I want to remember you, Gary, because it was indeed a lovely conversation.

I wish I'd had the opportunity to say goodbye.

2. Jesse
Stepping off of that bus and seeing Jesse though? Oh my. My heart. I was without this boy for what did I say, eleven days? Not even two weeks, but seeing him was like waking up on Christmas morning as a kid. It was a breath of fresh air. I know that's an overused cliche, but when it fits, it fits. He was a breath of fresh air, and it was amazing to step down and see him standing there. I couldn't not smile about it.

This is day three of being with him in his home. It's a much different experience than having him in mine. Since he lives on his own now, there's no one else to juggle or consider. It's just us. There's not even an animal butting into every second (which I rather miss to be honest). It's nice. I like just being with him. Luke keeps asking me why we're not doing anything, but I don't feel like we really need to. I've been enjoying just being. We're getting to know eachother, not just on a deep conversational level, but on a casual one. It's a lot harder to maintain falsities when you're basically living with someone.

You know, I feel I really love this boy. Looking over at him as he plays his dumb LoL ripoff with his boyfriends, my heart fills full. He brings a lot of new and sometimes disturbing challenges to my bland little life, but I absolutely wouldn't trade it. Or him. Jesse has become my first choice. He has been for a long time. And I thought I couldn't love anymore, hurr. He wormed his way in, and every time he leans in for a kiss or slips his hand into mine, that feeling grows. You love someone as much as you possibly can, and then you love them more. That's what's happening here. I know him. I see him. I love him.

If I had any doubts, he broke out the Rainsong guitar today and sang for me. Jesus. Okay. Let me make something clear.

I don't love him because he can play the guitar. I mean. That's hot. >_> When I dreamed up my perfect boyfriend as a teenager, it wasn't exactly Jesse (except for those eyes, shit), but it wasn't all that far off either. That being said, as a mostly-adult, what I find so attractive about that guitar isn't the guitar at all. It's him. As he plays, the concentration, the expressions on his face, the eyebrow thing, the self consciousness he still gets caught in despite the clear confidence in his abilities. As a kid, I wanted a boy who knew how to play the guitar. Now I want this one. Nobody else will do.

I like that he takes a gun to the bathroom with him. "Bathroom gun," he says. Fuckin' nerd.

I can't really explain the feelings. I'm doing a piss poor job, I know. I'm so tired though. Despite being totally at home here, I am just barely sleeping. That's not entirely different than being in PA I suppose, but it doesn't come with the freedom of being able to sleep at any moment's notice, either. I mean, I could. Jesse might even be glad to see it happening. I won't though. I'd just end up laying there.

Whenever I'm in a new place, the scene from the second (?) episode of Evangelion with Shinji waking up in the hospital bed always pops into my mind. He opens his eyes, stares, and solemnly says, "unfamiliar ceiling." That's not the case here, though. It does look familiar. It feels familiar. I've never been here, but it feels so right. Just like Jesse. He just feels right. So does this place. Despite all of my worrying and sleeplessness, Indiana feels... good. Looking around the room now, it needs a good cleaning and decluttering and god forbid someone invests in some proper storage, but it feels right.

It's weird and wonderful and leaving is going to be impossible.

My only real complaint is the water. Uck. It's well water without a filter or softener, and good god, it tastes like I've walked outside and licked a rusting metal pole. I struggle to really even brush my teeth. Sorry, Jesse. <<; I'm just a city girl spoiled by city regulated water. Plus, it makes everything yellow. That'd be a real bitch to fight against all of the time.

I want to keep writing. The fingers are willing but the mind is dying.
Oh god, I'm not even going to proof read. Sorry for the typos.
See you, space cowboy.

Thanksgiving 2017 Pt. 2

If there was a moment where I fell in love with Jesse the being, rather than the text and voice, it was that first night. Sure didn't take long, did it? At some point I sat down on the floor, put a pillow on my lap, and he laid his head down on it. I just... traced his features and stroked the bridge of his nose and really looked at him for the first time, since he had his eyes closed and I didn't have to deal with the pressure of actually being seen. And my goodness, what a boy. After a very short while, I realized he was asleep and my heart, Jesus... I have something about vulnerability. That is my soft spot, and he fell right into it, and just... augh. ಠ益ಠ Moving on, then.

The 22nd

Bethy was supposed to be arriving today, but ended up contracting a cold and didn't come. ): It was a tough and terrible call, but I do believe it was the right one. God knows, I've been sick, what, four times this year already? My immune system was shot, and the last thing I wanted was to be sick around Jesse. Crisis averted, right? ...Wrong-o. I had noticed it the night before but passed it off as nerves; my stomach was killing me. It was so bad, I didn't even bother trying to make the desserts I was supposed to have ready for tomorrow. Goodbye, sweet pumpkin roll.

It just figures though, doesn't it? I spend some five or six years being so irregular I begin doubting that I can even have babies, but the month Jesse comes to visit, the day he comes to visit, my period shows up like clockwork. Thanks, body. You're a real pal. And
it was a bad one, too. :/ So bad that when Jesse, Luke, and I went to Beto's, I couldn't even enjoy it. I ordered two pieces and ate most of one. Food just made everything so much worse. We came home and pretty much just laid there together, because I was a useless lump and couldn't get past the pain. I guess it's good he knows what he's in for in the future, but I still wish it wouldn't have happened. I had to think real hard about what we even did this day, because it just sort of melted into the others.

( <3 )

He was so sweet about it, though. Either he's giving me unrealistic expectations, or I really lucked out with this one. *wistful sigh*

The 23rd - Thanksgiving

Today was the day. For the most part, I felt better. The pain was still there, but either I was able to shove it away from the forefront of my mind, or it was significantly less intense. I got up around 11am and cooked until about 7pm. Woo. It was kind of nice, though. I'd started early enough that I didn't feel much pressure and was able to take my time with things. Going back and forth from the garage (food storage) and kitchen took me through the den, where I'd sneak by the still sleeping Jesse, and there was something nice about that. In addition to the joy of just seeing him there, I really like being the only one awake in the house. My mom had left for Sue's, and both my boys were still asleep. It was very safe, and very serene, and one of those moments that's just so... right.

I need a new adjective, but "right" is what comes to mind every time. It really did feel right.

I feel like I'll enjoy moments like these most in the future. As I get older and accumulate more people in my household, specifically little people, and even more so on holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving, I see myself appreciating the early mornings when I'm awake doing matriarch stuff. There's some really stupid movie in theaters right now called Bad Moms or something, and in the trailer, there is a quote that they portray as negative, but you know... I really love it. The quote is, "We're moms. We don't enjoy, we give joy." ._.

I may not be a mom yet, but I basically am. I do all of the mom things, and dad things for that matter, and it always falls upon me to be the one giving joy. I clean, decorate, organize, and pull things together. I make the Thanksgiving dinner. I carve the turkey. I provide the joy to the people I care for. That, in turn, makes me happy. This was pretty much my attitude throughout the day.

Eventually Jesse, then much later Luke, got up and headed out to do boy stuff on Luke's car. I waited a while and crept around the side of the house to smile at them in secret. It was nice to see. I was afraid Luke would feel weird around Jesse, or maybe even let the past prevent him from liking Jesse at all. That didn't seem like the case though, and I was really happy to see them going off to do something without me, even if it was mostly functional and a little awkward. I must say though, I felt Beth's lack of presence at that moment. I wish she had been there. We should have been taking the time to talk about the men while they were out of the house. <_< Instead, it got a little quiet. Next year.

My mom came home around that time, and a few hours later, we were sitting around the dinner table with a 14lb turkey, homemade stuffing, a bacon and cheddar green bean casserole, fresh cranberry sauce, a tub of creamy mashed potatoes, gravy made from the drippings and giblets, and dinner rolls from scratch, between us.

(Genius here forgot to take a photo of the turkey pre-carving. RIP. It was a beautiful bird.)

J/k, I messed up the dinner rolls. Luckily I had some Pillsbury biscuits in the fridge as backup. Note to self, giving yeast dough time to rise is great, but it doesn't stay risen forever. >>; I don't know why I didn't just bake them. Oh well.

I kept stealing glances at Jesse as we ate. It was just so good to have him there. >< I felt like if I looked away too long, maybe I'd realize I was actually just rocking back and forth in a padded room at some psych hospital. Afterall, life can't be that good, can it? Apparently, it can. Plus, it felt good to feed him actual food. I'd made him a fancy sammich the previous night, but that doesn't really count as cooking. This was the first (and so far, only) time I'd ever made him dinner, and as that is a big way I show my affection toward people, it was important to me.

We all went our separate ways afterwards, my mom and Luke up to bed, and Jesse and I down into the den where we spooned and just generally enjoyed life. Despite ruining the rolls, not having honey OR lemon for my cranberry sauce, and very slightly overcooking the turkey, it was a really good day. I feel like that's what holidays with the family should be like... relaxing and full of positive things. No awkward or forced conversation, fights over (worldly or familial) politics, or drunken people you don't really know asking you the same life questions for the 6th year in the row, well knowing neither of you cares.

The 24th

Jesse and I pretty much just took this day for ourselves. He'd be leaving tomorrow, Luke was working, and I just wanted to be with him. We wasted time doing a lot of nothing. Went to Costco and GE (or was that Tuesday?), watched a billion episodes of Longmire, ordered Doughboy's, browsed eachother's youtube interests. I believe it was also this morning when he saw me squeeze my toothpaste from the middle and gave me this face. ---> ಠ╭╮ಠ


It was a casual day tainted with the thought that he'd be leaving the following morning sometime. But it was still a good day. It's uh, safe to say we made the most of our alone time and enjoyed every bit of it. Went up to the Mt. Washington overlook that night and had a good time. It was nice to do something kind of... romantic. Pretty sure we both really liked that.

( Who wouldn't want to spend time with that? Sorry, I was laughing at something. >_>
Really though. Look at that face. Just... augh. )

During this time, it hit me hard how amazing it was to be spending time with someone who also wanted to spend time with me. ._. We held hands and did silly (innocent) teenager stuff behind a tree, and I wouldn't trade any of it.

The 25th - Dawn of the Final Day

More Doughboy's, more Longmire, more spooning, and then it was time for him to leave. I was absolutely determined not to cry, which let's be honest, was a joke from the very beginning. I did cry. Worse than I thought I would. It was just... heart wrenching. I sat in his car in the driveway, waiting "for the car to heat up," holding my breath and looking away every 30 seconds to maintain my composure. I should have just gone with him, but Alyssa's birthday was coming up and I had agreed to go to some craft class with my mom, BJ, and Britney. I couldn't leave. I wanted to, but I couldn't.

It was so hard to open that door, step out, and let my hand fall away from his. I was in tears before I'd even touched the ground. It was... irrational. We'd already booked my bus ticket for December 6th. I'd be seeing him again in less than two weeks, but my god. What did I say a few sentences ago, that it was heart wrenching? It was, absolutely an awful thing to pull myself away from him and watch him drive away. I tried. I tried so hard not to cry, but it just kept coming.

Just as I watched his headlights grow brighter, I watched his tail lights dim and disappear. Then I went back inside and sobbed into a shirt and pillow that smelled like him, and pretty much haven't stopped hurting about it since.

Epilogue, and other things.

It's really difficult to be away from him. It's made worse because it's also difficult for him to be away from me. I think maybe it's more tolerable to miss someone if it's somewhat one-sided, because you can rationalize all of the reasons why you're apart. However when you both desperately want to be together and you aren't, well... you sit there and endlessly wonder why.

I have a feeling that's going to be a pretty large part of my life over the next year. Normally I am a big advocate and believer in delayed gratification. In this case, I hate the term. I don't WANT delayed gratification. I want him. Even now, he's only been gone six days. Just six. It feels like a god damn lifetime. Six days gone, six days until I see him again. Six days too long, let me tell you.


Before I wrap this up, I have one major thing to talk about, and that... is this.

(You may or may not have noticed the blur of it on my previous photo.)

Keep the squealing to a minimum. It's just a promise ring.
"Just a promise ring," she says as she slips on her shades and remains cool about it, totally nonflustered and not at all giddy on the inside, rite.

The story is that Jesse's 18-year-old uncle died, and his then-girlfriend returned the ring to his mom, Jesse's granny. o3o Then she gave it to him, and well... now it's mine, and I feel very fortunate to have it. It means... a lot. More than words can really express. As if the gesture and meaning of a promise ring weren't enough. ~_~

And it fits.
That means something, doesn't it.

God... what did I do to deserve all of this? Do I, even? I'm not going to question it too much.

Later Days~

Thanksgiving 2017 Pt. 1

I'm going to break this post up into a few different ones, because I don't think I can handle posting about it all at once. There are so many feelings and emotions that no single post can contain them. No single Myste can contain them. That being said, here's part one.

The 21st

Well, it's happened. One chapter closed, another one has opened, and I am ready for it. I want it. For the first time in a long time, I am not only open to change, but eager for it. I am ready to leave the life I've lead behind and embark on something new; or perhaps not new, per se. Something fabled. Something I've always wanted and always longed after, but past a certain point in my life, was pretty sure I'd not have. As I've said more than once in this journal, I wasn't even sure it truly existed.

Now here it is. Or more accurately, here he is. So let's get with the entry, shall we?
As mentioned previously, I invited Jesse for Thanksgiving.

I was nervous about it as the day drew nearer, and especially after he said he was on his way. It was made worse because I couldn't talk to him much on the trip. There were things to be done and demands on my attention, and the whole time, I could feel things slowly shifting around and becoming unsteady within myself. I'm not sure how else to describe it. There was just... some change, something building up to a crescendo. And then it happened, in a moment. Something fell away. Some final layer of reserve and doubt, I think. The very last of my protective wall, maybe. It crumbled.

It happened as I was looking out my kitchen window, and I saw his headlights.
The world went... bright. Or vibrant. Or maybe it just looked real to me again. Life was finally happening, and god, I was desperate for it.

In theory, knowing he was so close, I'd have run a comb through my hair or gone up to assure myself that I was in some faintly presentable state. In reality, I flew out the door without a coat or... god, was I even wearing shoes? In hindsight, I don't think I was, stood on my porch, and waited. As determined as I was to see him first, I think I forgot and put myself in the line of fire, because I just... I wanted the moment so badly.

And then there he was, and I had the vague thought that if I was hugging him, he wouldn't be able to look at how fat and unattractive I was, but mostly, god, I just... I wanted to hug him.

First impressions. Man. Nervous. He was nervous. He was so nervous, I became less nervous. A little awkward, even, which I hadn't expected. Again mentioned previously, Jesse had always been this unflappable, driving force in my mind. To see him a little unsure of himself was... it humanized him. It made me realize that he was real. He wasn't just some words on a screen or a voice in my ear, he was a physical being that was standing before me and, my god, he was imposingly... beautiful.

Imposingly beautiful. That's not quite right. "Imposing" carries a negative connotation, and it was a very positive thing. "Beautiful" pertains mostly to someone's looks, and that's not what I'm talking about. I'm not talking about his looks or my level of attraction to him (although if we must... ಠ益ಠ!!!). There was something deeper. He just... he just... HE JUST LOOKED RIGHT, OKAY? He looked... right.

Like putting a crucial piece into an unfinished puzzle, and finally seeing the image for what it should be. He just... he... looked... right.

Second impressions. Tall. He was taller than I expected him to be. I like it (ಠ益ಠ again).
And then we did hug, and it was just... I'm not even going to try for this one, there were no words. Let's just say that also felt incredibly right. Like, where has this boy been my whole fucking life? OH RIGHT, BEING KEPT AT ARM'S LENGTH, the fuck. In a complete 180, I now want to essentially osmosis myself to him and never be apart, ever. But that's something else entirely.

And if you think all of that sounds dramatic, well gee, after we met my mother and carried a few things in, he stopped me on the steps and kissed me, and just... excuse me, click this.

He was just magical. ._. Everything about him was magical.
We laid on my bed for a while and took eachother in, went out to Eat n Park for dinner, and that was the night.


Actually, that wasn't the whole night, but I'll write about the rest another time, because I have reached my feels capacity.
Stay tuned for part two. Or whatever.


I've had a revelation. ._. I think I'm... happy.
In a general sense, I think I might actually be happy. My life is still a seemingly endless shitstorm. God, I was just crying and fighting with my mother not two days ago, and it was an awful fucking day, and yet in the shadow of that, I think I might actually be happy.

What even. Is.. is that you, Myste? It's been so long.
And it's all that damn Jesse's fault. ಠ益ಠ
I need to go.. slap his stupid face. With my lips.

I mean. wut.

My life is about to change in a pretty major way. Despite being incredibly fat, really, fatter than I've ever been before (and hopefully ever will be), I invited Jesse to Thanksgiving.


Yeah. Fuck. What was I thinking.

Oh, right. I was thinking of my boyfriend sitting in his man panties, alone, consuming a dozen wings and an entire pizza. Can't let that happen. Not to say it necessarily would have, but .... that's the image that came to mind, and proceeded to haunt me until the invitation came spewing out of my mouth, not entirely dissimilar to that fish dinner from Cracker Barrel a few months ago (gross).

So I took the plunge and now he'll be here in less than 48 hours. Ah. AHH?

It's kind of a fascinating thing. I know it's unfair to compare, but I can't help but think how it took me prodding and poking and begging Jeff to get his ass down here, and he still failed (hence the breakup). Yet here's Jesse, not even three months in, on his way tomorrow. The circumstances are very different but the variance between the two outcomes is not lost on me.

I'm where I should be. That's what this is all telling me. This is right.
I just wish I weren't so fat.

The need for this meet-up is really quite overwhelming. I was determined to make him wait until at least February, but once I resigned myself to the 21st, it was done and I just wanted it to be here. I still just want it to be here. 48 hours is much too close, but more than that, much too far away. I guess it's all pent up, not just from the past few months, not just residual from my last relationship, but perhaps from way back in 2008-ish when he first told me he was going to come see me because he needed someone real in his life, and he was convinced that person was me.

Turns out he wasn't wrong, but was just some nine years too eager.

Thinking about it now, it's funny he said such things to me so far back. Pretty much since the beginning. He's said a lot of things to me over the years that have turned out to be far more accurate than I could have guessed, despite the habit of coming in and out of eachother's lives as consistently willy-nilly as we did.

Consistently willy-nilly. Bit of an oxymoron there.

In vain, I tried to explain this to him; this time right now, this time before we see eachother, is precious. It's a time that will never be again. It marks a huge milestone in our lives that you can never go back to once it's passed. It's like a couple's time before becoming parents, for example. Becoming parents is a wonderful thing, but the period before two becomes three is also a wonderful thing. It's something that can never be again. Once it's gone, it's gone, and you can never go back. That's kind of like what's happening here. It's monumental. It's a part of our lives we're leaving behind as we enter a new phase, and it's going to be a wonderful new phase, but there's something to be said for the anticipatory quality of the right now. It will never be again.

Like when he was trying to tell me he loves me. I was eager for it. I wanted it so bad, but once it happened, the thrill of listening to him try to force it out would be gone. And it is. And I'm thankful that I can just say it whenever I want. I love you. But there was something to be said for that innocent, yearning angst of waiting for it for the first time. It's got a nostalgic appeal, and I look back on it very fondly. Does this make sense, at all? I feel like I'm just talking in circles. Ah well. Someone, somewhere understands.

Here we are now, about to close another chapter. Fond nostalgia or not, I can hardly wait. ._.
I want to touch his face. And set eyes upon him. And... some other stuff.

It just cannot come soon enough.

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