(no subject)
Well, Brent and I went and helped my grandmother all we could with the kids this weekend. Nothing much eventful. I went and did the mother's day thing and now, I'm pretty damn broke again. I canceled the benefits. I just can't afford to live at home with what I make and I'm sure I wouldn't make it out in the real world on my own. I also changed what's taken out in taxes. Shouldn't hurt me but I have a bit extra in the paycheck. I'm still head over heels for Brent, even through the recent things. It seems as soon and I don't want to marry or have kids or whatever, he does. What'll happen if I turn 21 and I want to go out to the bars and shit? I sure as hell won't wanna settle then. Hmm. Maybe part of me wants to settle now because I know I very well might change my mind once I taste the things that aren't really all that good for me. Then, growing up and getting responsible will just scare me to the point I'll never conceive the idea. As it is, the older I get the less I wanna grow up. The more I feel like I'm still 16 with a curfew and the more I miss getting totally screwed up on the weekends while going buck-wild. Such things are, well, bad for Sam. Maybe it's some lame outcry or some shit. Who knows? But anyways, I just want to run from it all. I know for a fact if I don't fall into those things and force myself to grow up now I won't regret it. But I feel like I can. I can't afford to be all adult and have my own place. I can't be married or have kids. I feel as though I'm growing from it. I'm petrified that I'll grow away from Brent. I was always kinda scared of the whole long term commitment thing. For the first time in my life, I was certain that I wanted it. My certainty, partially because I was under the impression that he felt the exact same way. Recent events proved me wrong, and now I'm back in the scared of commitment thing. I wonder if I'll ever be able to commit. I kinda doubt it. Now, I wonder what I'd say to Brent if he were ever to ask. I told Derek no. Who's to say I'd say yes now? Who's to say he'll ever want to marry me bad enough to ask? A huge chunk of me doesn't think I'll ever marry...or have children. Maybe I'll be that old 4o something woman with the obviously adopted child. Maybe I'll just have dogs. Maybe I'll live with my mother until I'm incapable of taking care of myself. Or maybe I'll live that storybook thing. Maybe Brent will ask me and I'll have the guts to say yes. Maybe I'll be with him til the day we die after we've had grandkids and a mortgage. Who knows. Isn't it lame that everyone seems to have more control over the outcome of you life than you do?