So this is what being a house wife feels like?

I've been in Louisiana for about a week. I'm officially moved here and terrified of driving.

We arrived in Louisiana around 7am last Tuesday. Very tired and very glad to be out of my car. Wednesday we spent way more money than anticipated on things just meant to make the apartment functional.

We wake up every morning smiling at each other... talk just as much during the day and then cuddle up on the couch at night and watch tv until going to bed. I've never been so happy to be broke in my life. Okay, so "broke" is a loose term. We're Hubby broke, not MY kind of broke. (There is a couple hundred dollars difference in that perception of "broke")

I keep trying to remind myself, "Everything is great to start out with... it's bound to not be as awesome at some point..." but I really don't see that happening. We are very much like we use to be but quite happier and there is romantics involved. It's nice to not be awkward around each other. I'm noticing the real relaxed Hubby can be, not what I thought his relaxed was. We also seem to have a sixth sense about each other. It's awesome.

Last Thursday I came down with something and have been coughing my head off all weekend. I've felt the best since then today. I've mainly got the Apartment together. The living room is basically finished and we only need random things sporadically around the apt to complete each room.... which I assume we will complete each room just in time to move again.

Other than, "Life is fucking amazingly awesome right now but slightly boring during the day because I do nothing but drink, watch netflix and now play video games while waiting on Hubby to get home." I have nothing else to report... O, and that I am in love and this feels absolutely right.

Uhhh... yeah... that is all.

I want both.

Ten days. One Zero. Ten. Ten days and I get to wake up next to him, cuddle him during a thunderstorm and nag him when I'm feeling bitchy. Sigh I cannot wait! I can tell that he's excited too, since his smiles are bigger on Skype as of late.

"You're going to miss those babies!"
I keep hearing from... well... everyone. It's true too. The twins I babysit have quickly become my entire life. My reason to get up in the morning, my smile when I feel like crying as well as my hair-pulling, snotty nosed cry babies when I'm already at my wits end. They cry when I walk out of a room, they make me feel needed.... they snuggle me close when they're feeling bad. I'm going to miss those little bobble heads like no other. It's not just the twins though, I'm going to miss their older sister, their mom, their dad, their Mama C and PawPaw. All of them. This family has been with me through the thick and thin. They have given me a place to stay when no one else wanted me. This family has given me a job when I was scraping by at a sandwich shop. This family has done absolutely everything for me, without hesitation, without asking for anything in return. Leaving them breaks my heart. I can't help but cry at the idea of leaving them at all much-less in need. The boys are still too young for daycare and too expensive to have in daycare, anyway. The boys don't like strangers but they took to me the first time I met them. Their older sister asks if I'm out of the house for longer than twenty minutes. I feel more apart of this family than I have any family, ever. Yes, even my own. They accept me for who I am and always wish me the best. They have showed me unconditional love (Not required by blood relation) and now I have my chance at also creating a family of my own. It's the dilemma of a life time. I've tried not to think about it. BFF (The twin's mom) and I don't speak about it... It's the elephant in the room that no one wants to acknowledge. I worry about them thinking I'm abandoning them. Is it too selfish to leave now? But staying hurts too. I feel like I'm happy with a thorn in my side. It's like gnawing my arm off to live another day. I want both things equally. To stay and be apart of this family and to go and start my own with someone who I've always had a very strong emotional attachment to.

I want both.

I want both.

I want both.

I've been going through the motions since I got back from my short visit to Louisiana. Sometimes I'm in the moment [with normal every day routine] and I'd think, "I've got to remember this, take a picture, cherish it... I'm about to move" and it still wouldn't feel real. As I'm nearing the single digits on my countdown, the realization has settled heavy somewhere in my pelvic region. (You know, where IBS lives.) I feel like it's a backpack when I run, a fly in my ear as I play with the boys and a heavy beating drum when I'm hanging out chatting with BFF. I don't feel doubt in wanting to live and be with Hubby, I feel guilt for being happy. Does that make sense? How can I be happy about something that will be taking me away from this new family that has stood by me for so long? Guilt because I've lost friends along the way and it doesn't bother me. Guilt because I'm so happy and quite frankly, I'm not sure I care who I lose in the process. (Well, accept the twins and their family. Everyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care.) Hubby means that much to me.... I hear that's suppose to prove you do have real love. The fact that the ones that matter supports us the most seems to be the shining factor.

This isn't a thinking decision, this is a decided matter. It's finally sunk in. It's real. This isn't a fantasy anymore. This isn't a day dream on a hot summer day in Greensboro... or a last thought before drifting off to sleep in the middle of winter....

This is real.

Holy shit, is it real.

Why We are Eloping

For one, Hubby and I have known each other for quite some time. Most of our communication and hanging out was done without informing the masses. Our friendship for the most part was private. Not because we felt we had to be secret, but because we never felt a need to blab it around town. Our time together was always special and outside populace was never a concern. Our mutual friends reacted both shocked and not-so-shocked at us announcing the news. They were shocked because no one realized how close we were and not-so-shocked because they could totally see us together.

I know I love him. I know he loves me. That is not in question. To us, we don't need an audience to prove our vows valid. Not to mention the gawkers that would show or the abundance of drama that could ensue from our drunken friends speaking to our relatives. "Remember when..." stories would rosy our cheeks super quick-like.

So I guess in a way, we are saving face and giving everyone the middle finger too. Not so much in a "Screw you guys, we don't need you!" kind of way but in a, "You guys are awesome but we would rather be alone for this." kind of way. So maybe the middle finger is just to our exes and those that were trying to keep us apart although we were friends with each other and we refused to stop txting and calling each other.

Don't take it personally. My grandmother (whom could lay an egg with excitement that I'm marrying a man) isn't invited to see the exchange of vows and legal signing of documents. That is saying something. Also, our mothers had the same excitement and glee, "I'm just happy you two found each other and will be married!" At this point they just want me to squeeze out a kid or two and us live under the same roof-- I don't think they really care about the rest. (It's all just a technicality to get married, really.)

Basically-- Us getting married is just a socially enforced thing that also enables us to do all those fancy things you're trying to keep gay people from. We want those fancy state/federally acknowledged things. Plus, I think he really digs the idea of me sporting his last name. Nothing to do with religion or if I wore white or not.... or what soandso said to soandso... and "zOmg, can you believe her hair?" Yeah... none of that. At least not on our dime. You can do that all you want from afar on Facebook. (Which, duh, will happen)

In two weeks we move under one roof.

C a n n o t       w a i t!

"Equal to what? To me? Riiiight."

First off, I want to make it clear that I live in the bible belt. There are some free thinkers here but we are greatly outnumbered by redneck ignorance.

"Are you going to remove your homo sticker from your car now?" My sister giggled as she asked me.

"No, why should I?" I question.

"Because, you're going to get married to a DUDE, you HETERO!" She insisted.

"Just because I'm marrying a male doesn't mean I don't agree that all love is equal. I'm not straight. I just ended up with a dude because he ended up being the PERSON for me. I advocate love. I'm FOR homos to be on equal footing." I said in between shoving pizza in my mouth trying to sound casual.

"Whatever, HETERO!" She joked back. I glance over and notice that my grandma is nervously laughing in the corner and my sister's kitchen has quite a few family members in it.

Good, I thought, they need to know I'm not one of them.

 I'm still me, I'm still carrying the same views: no matter what my "lifestyle" choices represent from afar.

I'm so annoyed.... [I keep trying to finish that statement but it just ends in childish finger pointing.] I don't consider myself straight. I just don't. I met a lady a few years ago that was married to her wife and very content but refused to settle with the title lesbian. "But you're married and monogamous to a woman! That's the same sex, you two are female! That makes you a lesbian!" Everyone at the house party would joke. She would scoff and shake her head, "No you idiots, that makes me faithful to the person I love, but I still find males attractive! Just because I'm married doesn't mean my sexual preferences have changed, it just means I happen to have found someone to love and that loves me back. They just happened to be the same sex as I am. That's all." I looked her right in the eyes as she spoke, secretly thinking she was a lesbian and should just accept it just like everyone else. 

But now that I am in her shoes I completely understand her sentiment. I watched a Brandon Teena story today and the people they interviewed made me cringe with disgust. How is it acceptable to question a transgendered individual how they can go around kissing someone of their same below the waist gender in an interview about being RAPED?! Don't even get me started on the war against women to begin with. The cop questioning him basically said, "Well, since you're lying to everyone about being a man when you actually have a vagina, you must have asked for this to happen." During his interview. I applaud Brandon for refusing to answer those questions referring to his gender identity and who he preferred to date. Brandon didn't have an identity crisis. He had an identity that everyone seemed to have a crisis with.

It infuriates me to no end that it is acceptable to question someone about their sexuality.... ESPECIALLY if they aren't inquiring because they'd like to be romantic with the person in question! The only time you should inquire someone's preference is if you wish to start a romantic or sexual encounter with said person. I cannot for the life of me come up with any other reason you would inquire or make comment in reference to the sex of another person's preference. Well, I guess if you're hoping to connect a friend or relative with a friend you might want to know but that's the only other instance I can come up with.

Basically: I don't see who I fuck has to do with how you make your eggs in the morning.

Why can't people just respect each other and live their own lives? I don't see why it has to be a common people issue.... simply because I don't see the issue. Civil Rights are meant for everyone. I believe with having a black president we have made a huge leap in the right direction for human equality.

Now if we could only get a female homo Latina in office, we might actually have some legit equality evolving!

Emptiness.

I can't shake this feeling. The sadness. The woe. The disparity. The empty chair across from me mocks me.

What am I doing here? Why am I spinning my wheels?
Question.
Question.
Question.

Reading Anaïs Nin will be the death of me. Her stories of finding herself through her husband's money and other men's perceptions. Recreating herself and conforming to each man as if he held the key to who she truly is. It saddens me to know that this is what most females do... And why I remain emotionally unattached through most of my adult life.

Okay, so not all legitimate relationships are defined as man and woman. (And I don't like pretending like the rest of the world that only the opposite sex can have real love.) Only in context of Anaïs Nin do I speak of the dynamic of lost self and seeking self via opposite sex... Well, sex. She does it all wrong and so realistically human it's amazingly beautiful. It's like graffiti on a condemned building.

For a large part of my life I've felt very alone. Although my complaints seem loud and annoying up here there are many times I was pleased with my solidarity. It only got lonely when I was reminded of the shallow loveless sex I was having induced by large amounts of alcohol and fellow loneliness. Maybe I see the flaws in the character of Sabina because I lived them. I live them many times over. In search of self I escaped into brief moments of lust and lingering desires of a heart un-quenched by life.

That damn empty chair.

I have driven an hour out of my hometown for coffee and to sequester myself to my thoughts. Clear my head... Only to make it more cloudy. Clarity only comes when it is undesired. Now I am highly caffeinated and feeling alone by my own hand. I was going to treat myself to dinner and a movie. (The usual treat for sadness and needing a distraction... A date by myself) I find myself yearning for my counterpart in the most embarrassing of ways. A thousand miles between us and what am I waiting for? Days to come and go, a couple more hours on the paycheck... My heart to burst and death to bestow its last laugh at my attempts of happiness.

I spent all weekend torn in two directions. Should I stay or go? I'm staying for selflessness and wanting to leave out of selfishness.... But why stay when the selflessness is going unnoticed by those you want to notice?

My dire need to be respected and loved by my family seems like a hamster wheel of failure. I run, chase and grit my teeth to no avail. I fear the only ways of succeeding would leave me stifled and ripping my hair out day dreaming of so much more life to be lived. I'm more than a picture frame, I am the picture within the frame bursting to move and be free. I am the distant horizon in a visage so brilliant in colors you have to squint to witness it.

"Be the change you wish to see in this world." Yes. So true. Smile because you want others to smile... Take yourself on dates because you can never depend on another to do it for you... Because you shouldn't have to depend on another to make you smile. If there was anything I could ever teach someone else it's to love yourself first an treat yourself better than anyone else could treat you. You first, everyone else second. So when you do find love you know the standard they should keep: your own.

I'm just rambling.... Staring at an empty chair at a Starbucks in a tiny beach town in the middle of winter.

Its only the matter of waiting.

The wind whirls angrily around as if seeking revenge on the entire population in my small town. Right as the sun slinked it's way under the horizon the cloud bore bold warnings of a very angry Mother Nature. I hunched my shoulders trying to evade the coldness creeping into my soul.

Life has been bumpy but in the proper direction. I had sidetracked myself with busy-ness so's not to notice the eggshells I had been treading on, or the evasive action towards self preservation. I entertained myself with unjourneyed roads and journeyed them just to find another dead end.

How is it that when you are at a loss with what you want all the loose ends don't seem so pertinent? It's when clarity settles in when you realize the wreck of a life you have created for yourself.

What a disaster.

Still living at my sister's place on her couch. Since late November. It is now February and all I have to show for myself is new outfits and a crappy T-Mobile phone. I have enough money for food and gas now and even some bills if I'd actually go through the process of giving up the goods to corporate America. I also very often forget I have money in a bank account now. It's quite an adjustment.

I fell down the stairs today. I had been sleeping on the floor in an upstairs bedroom (that doesn't have a bed in it) at my sister's house. I had three songs on repeat that I changed every thirty or so minutes.

Slow Me Down - Emmy Rossum
When I Grow Up - Fever Ray
The Fox - Nikki and the Dove

Each song easily got thirty minutes each on repeat as I fought being alive. I didn't even bother changing out of my sandwich shop uniform. I just collapsed on the floor and used a pillow I had in that room. Gloom. Doom. Emo swoop sadness.

After some time I felt quite ridiculous and decided to get changed and get out of the house. I took my time and didn't dress to the 9s but I did put on my newly purchased clothes. I was making my way down the stairs when I slipped about 3/4ths of the way down. I felt the impact of the bottom step against my coccyx. Everything went white and I screamed loud enough I had to cough to get my voice back. I sobbed and looked down at my contorted legs and the tips of my fingers burned from trying to grab the rail to no avail. I looked out into the living room, it was empty. The TV was even off as if it could have given me some kind of condolence. I took a deep breath and wiggled my toes. I slowly got up and realized the pain in the middle of my back and my tailbone. I whimpered to myself and eased myself on the couch to continue my childish sobbing.

How dare my life put in a physical analogy of my silent suffering. Just as you get the strength to overcome there are always some stairs you will fall down first.

My thought at the bottom of the stairs was: "This isn't rock bottom, but it is quite literally the bottom of somewhere."

I sobbed for a few more moments and composed myself. Today is just a day and tomorrow will be another. Life can be at its worst and you can be at the bottom of the stairs all alone.... but at least I have my life.

This is just temporary. My situation is only a waiting room for what I have in store for myself. That is something I can't get lost in. It seems the last twenty-four years have been a Mouse Trap Game setting me up for my future. I anticipate the great change headed my way during the rebirth of nature.

It's only the matter of waiting.