(no subject)
Destitute and truly in love. Why do the two seem to go together so often? Is it because of the stupid decisions that we make when we're young? The same thing that causes me to make wreckless decisions about moving across the country (which I still do not regret) happens to cause me to fall in love so quickly and feverishly.
These are the tendencies that have left me sitting here, alone on a Sunday afternoon, thinking "Hmm. What now?"
We're on foodstamps. I've never had to accept any government assistance. We're left struggling to make rent next month. Lucas still is not employed, though he did have a day-long yardwork job today that we found on craigslist. At least it's something. I'm not angry with him for not working. Part of me wants to shake him and say, "WHY THE FUCK HAVE YOU NOT BEEN HIRED?" but it's not his fault. He's trying. I'm trying. I'm only working part-time at $100/wk, but at least it's bringing in something rather than watching it all fly out the window.
I'm so homesick. I miss my mother. I miss my friends dearly. I miss running into people that I know and being able to sit down and bullshit with someone who knows where I am coming from. I want to go home, but I want to live here.
I'm damn frightened. Lucas keeps on promising that everything is going to be all right and attempting to protect me from things (like how far our money had dwindled down) so that I do not worry and sink further into depression. I appreciate it and recognize what a kind attempt it is, but how can I believe that? I know better. I'm not some child that you can feed protective lies to in order to keep their life "safe."
We've gotten into a few really bad arguments, one which ended with me saying "Fuck you" and attempting to walk out of the door to my interview, but him backing me up against it, yelling at me. I wanted to hit him so badly and I was afraid that he would hit me. My father used to do the exact same thing to me and I felt like a little kid again. I was already late to my interview, and then I lost it and started bawling, telling him that if he ever did that to me again, I was leaving, that there were no second chances after this one, that I felt small and thought he was going to hit me. I ended up locking myself in the bathroom and crying hysterically, trying to get myself together while he begged for my forgiveness from the other side of the door.
Brian and I had a terrible relationship, but I never had to deal with that, at least not until the end... and then I ended up being the one that snapped, the one that hit him once he finally told me that the reason why he wasn't staying was because he couldn't handle me anymore after stringing me along for several months of "I don't know why I'm leaving for California, I just need a change." The problem with that relationship was that there was not enough passion between the two of us, no matter how much I loved him and expressed it. I simply did not recieve it. The problem with the relationship between Lucas and I is that there is too much of it.
I don't know. I really don't. I'm about as mixed up as you can get right now. One minute, I'm prepared to walk down to City Hall and get married right now. The next, I'm ready to run away from this and fly back to Florida.
These are the tendencies that have left me sitting here, alone on a Sunday afternoon, thinking "Hmm. What now?"
We're on foodstamps. I've never had to accept any government assistance. We're left struggling to make rent next month. Lucas still is not employed, though he did have a day-long yardwork job today that we found on craigslist. At least it's something. I'm not angry with him for not working. Part of me wants to shake him and say, "WHY THE FUCK HAVE YOU NOT BEEN HIRED?" but it's not his fault. He's trying. I'm trying. I'm only working part-time at $100/wk, but at least it's bringing in something rather than watching it all fly out the window.
I'm so homesick. I miss my mother. I miss my friends dearly. I miss running into people that I know and being able to sit down and bullshit with someone who knows where I am coming from. I want to go home, but I want to live here.
I'm damn frightened. Lucas keeps on promising that everything is going to be all right and attempting to protect me from things (like how far our money had dwindled down) so that I do not worry and sink further into depression. I appreciate it and recognize what a kind attempt it is, but how can I believe that? I know better. I'm not some child that you can feed protective lies to in order to keep their life "safe."
We've gotten into a few really bad arguments, one which ended with me saying "Fuck you" and attempting to walk out of the door to my interview, but him backing me up against it, yelling at me. I wanted to hit him so badly and I was afraid that he would hit me. My father used to do the exact same thing to me and I felt like a little kid again. I was already late to my interview, and then I lost it and started bawling, telling him that if he ever did that to me again, I was leaving, that there were no second chances after this one, that I felt small and thought he was going to hit me. I ended up locking myself in the bathroom and crying hysterically, trying to get myself together while he begged for my forgiveness from the other side of the door.
Brian and I had a terrible relationship, but I never had to deal with that, at least not until the end... and then I ended up being the one that snapped, the one that hit him once he finally told me that the reason why he wasn't staying was because he couldn't handle me anymore after stringing me along for several months of "I don't know why I'm leaving for California, I just need a change." The problem with that relationship was that there was not enough passion between the two of us, no matter how much I loved him and expressed it. I simply did not recieve it. The problem with the relationship between Lucas and I is that there is too much of it.
I don't know. I really don't. I'm about as mixed up as you can get right now. One minute, I'm prepared to walk down to City Hall and get married right now. The next, I'm ready to run away from this and fly back to Florida.