My Boyfriend Wears Prada

And, frankly, I don’t know how to feel about it.

On one hand, it makes me nervous. I mean, clearly he comes from a very well-off family like he says, but… I have so many issues with spending that much money on clothes. Big expenditures to me are gaming systems and tablets and stuff like that. Not one shirt for $300. Granted, he looks absolutely gorgeous in it, but that’s not the point.

On the other hand, I have this strange feeling that I don’t know how to identify. It’s like I’m glad because, if everything works out between the two of us, and I really do think it will, I won’t have to be scared of how I’d live. I wouldn’t have to be afraid that we don’t know if we’re going to make it to the end of the month or we can’t provide for the family we plan to have in the (far) future. And that’s been a very massive fear for me when it comes to having kids. I know what it’s like to go without, to have to find ways to help out, to be the adult. It is such a huge relief to know that I won’t have to struggle for years to put together enough money to comfortably raise a child.

But it still bothers me every time I see that shirt in our closet.


What Love Really Is

Gosh, it’s been a while since I was here. So much has happened and I’ve grown considerably as a human being. As a woman.

I spend just about every day at my boyfriend’s place now. I’m not being that crazy, obsessed girlfriend, I swear. But we’ve both been talking a lot and, the more we talk, the more I realize that I have never been more right about someone than I have with him.

If you recall, I once mentioned that there are no perfect people in the world. There are no perfect relationships and everything is about how much you’re willing to compromise. I also mentioned that, if that was the case, this man is the closest to perfect for me as I can get.

I had no idea at the time just how right I was. We’ve been talking about our future, about five to ten years in the future. He wants me to be a part of his life that far in the future and, you know what? I want to be in his life that long, too. It’s such a strange realization, wanting not only a future, but wanting one to share with another person, potentially for the rest of my life. And, in the past, that’s been terrifying.

But I want this. I have gotten to the point where he is the only one who can tell me we can’t be together anymore. I’m not saying we don’t fight and I don’t want to call it quits sometimes, but he has proven to me time and again that he will stand by me no matter what, no matter the things that I have done or been through that I’m ashamed of and can’t tell anyone.

It’s weird for me, though. I’m so used to being independent, to holding myself up alone (despite all the wonderful friends I have, I’ve always chosen to be self-reliant) and now there’s someone that, when things get unbearable, there he is. I don’t want to make anyone my savior, but if there is one person to save me from myself, it’s him.

The crazy thing is that I’m starting to like that idea.

Gifts From My Father

I know I said I’d be away all week, but I found the WordPress app for my phone and I felt as though I needed to get this off my chest.

All my life, my father has been put on a pedestal. Despite being verbally and, at rare times, physically abusive, he has always been the man who could do no wrong. For a long time, I dealt with conflicting emotions toward this man.

After all, he is my father. And maybe I just don’t get it because I’m so much younger than him. Maybe this is normal.

But, at the same time, I knew it wasn’t. I knew that my father wasn’t supposed to be like that. A father isn’t supposed to make you feel as though you’re less than human at times, that your emotions, no matter how silly, aren’t valid.

But there was always that whole family loyalty thing. And, no matter how much I wanted to hate him to the point where I wouldn’t want to talk to him ever again, I couldn’t. I didn’t know why, only that there surely must have been something wrong with me for being incapable of that level of loathing.

Now I see why.

I am incapable of that level of loathing because I am the family mediator. I am the one who stays rational in a family crisis and keeps things from escalating. And I never really realized it until now. I never thought about it until my parents split up last week and I started being the one to coordinate the moving process. I’ve stopped fights and kept my mom from going back into a mutually abusive relationship.

It never seemed like that much of a talent until now. My planning skills aren’t genius-level, which is something I’ve always lamented, but now, I couldn’t ask for a better ability.

And all because my father gave me the greatest gift he could never have for himself. A clear mind incapable of the rage that so fully consumes him.