Work, Write, Love

There are so many things wrong right now. It’s ridiculous. I’m thinking too much and everything is driving me crazy. I think I’m getting slightly depressed because I’m stuck inside all the time recently because of the weather, with all of this cold and snow that’s been coming through everywhere here in the eastern United States. I guess it doesn’t make anything better when my fiance is working overtime because one of his co-workers is so badly injured that he isn’t able to work for the next two (2) months, so him and his other co-workers are putting in an exponential amount of extra hours to cover for him. This week, alone, he’s worked over sixty (60) hours. While, yes, the paycheck’s going to be lovely and both of us are looking forward to it… I miss him. I miss him a lot and I don’t get to spend enough time with him. We used to spend more time with each other. Hell, when my aunt was living with us we saw more of each other then, than we do now and we had severe privacy issues back then!

But all of this is just me ranting and raving. I need to get it out of my system. I have nobody – absolutely no one – to talk to about all of this.

I don’t have any close friends. I don’t really trust my family with personal information any more. It’s come to the point that the therapist who stops by bi-weekly to help with my child in his development (he’s a little behind, y’see) is easier to talk to than anybody else… except, of course, my fiance. But then it comes down to the fact that he’s never here and when he is, he seems to be sleeping because he’s so worn out from working. We never talk anymore. We never spend time with each other. We don’t even have money for a single Valentine’s Day dinner, I’ve come to find out.

I’m trying to figure out his schedule so that maybe I can arrange my mother and stepfather to babysit the children for a night or two so that my fiance and I can just have a night to ourselves and we can just, I don’t know, go out. Spend time with each other. See a movie. Have dinner. Go to a bar. Just have fun with each other. It’s not a big deal. The whole point, nonetheless, being is that we just need to spend time with each other. Without the children. Every couple does.

I feel like I’m losing him. And maybe it’s just me. I know I get paranoid sometimes and I definitely know that I have a tendency to overthink things, but it seems like my fiance and I have been growing distant from each other as of late and I don’t like it. Not one bit.

I know he loves me though. I need to stop being paranoid. The signs are there that he loves me. I’m letting too many things build up inside of me. Little things. Reminders from my past; things that people have said to me that are starting to get to me. It’s unfair and I don’t like it. I know what he’s really like. But again, that’s the problem. The little things that are wiggling their way into my mind are making me doubt stuff like that and, in my mind, if I really love my fiance I shouldn’t ever doubt him. I know that nobody is perfect; I know that no relationship is perfect, but I can’t help but continually wonder if something’s going wrong or if… just if.

I’ve wandered into “what if” categories. I really don’t think that’s a good sign.

A good sign, though, I think, is that he is the one person (not including my children) that I can’t picture myself without. I think and think and think, and then it occurs to me that we already act like we’re married. We share bills, rent, a home, chores, cooking (though, I will admit he does the majority when he’s not working); we share decisions and we compromise. We actually talk about where we’re heading in the future – where we want to go, in the sense of “when we finally get a house of our own and not this place, we’ll…” or “when we’re more financially stable we’ll take a trip to *example place* with the kids… they’d love it”. It makes my heart just grow and burst with such warmth. I feel like squealing and crying from happiness sometimes.

And, y’know, I guess it’s also probably a really good sign that when I’m reading my romance novels or watching my romantic-comedies (*cough* chick-flicks), or any sort of movie or book that has a significant amount of romance in it, I picture the leading female as myself and the leading male as my fiance. Especially once they start dating; especially if it’s starting to get more romantic. The thing is, though, it doesn’t have to be the “more romantic” parts. I have a wild imagination, and if I can picture my fiance and I doing something similar – then we’re in whatever book or movie I’m watching or reading at the time.

I love him and I’m in love with him. I’m not convincing myself of this. I’ve known it for about a year and a half now. My feelings have not faded; they’ve only grown stronger. I guess, though, I didn’t anticipate all of the other emotions – the stress, anxiety – that would come with it.

But he makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel whole. He makes me feel complete. With him, I am me and no one else. I don’t have to be. He feel in love with me at my worst and has helped me pick up the pieces. I truly believe he loves me for who I am. It’s just hard to believe sometimes. It’s a scary thought… to have found somebody so completely right for me that they’re willing to accept all of my fuck-ups & help me through my rough patches. It’s hard to comprehend to have found somebody who loves me even if my family is so against the relationship, or just completely horrible in their own right but he still loves me because, well, because my family does not define me. My family is not who I am. Just because I am related to them by blood does not always mean they are my family.

And he accepts me. And he loves me. And he loves my children.

That’s all that matters.

Fuck the world. We don’t need anyone else. Nobody else’s opinion matters.

Just ours.

Advertisements

Poem: “If Only”

Pardon me if I cry
a little.
Is it all right if I cry
a little?

I swear it’s not me you’re dreaming of.

I didn’t mean to say
the wrong things.
I don’t want to fight.
I’m sorry.

I don’t even know what we’re fighting for.

Can’t you just
let me know
what bothers you?

Isn’t it
easier
talking,
communicating?

I’m so sorry that I ever disappointed you.

I know I’m not
perfect and
that you
have flaws
too.

Can’t you just see me as I see you?

Why do we fight
with our silent
words?

Where did
we go
wrong?

Why won’t
this end? 

I hope
this ends.

I love you.

(c) K.C. 2013

(c) K.C. 2013

Written a decent amount of time ago when my fiance and I were in a tiff. Neither of us are confrontational and are more the “silent fighter” type. It was a long, drawn-out and torturous time for me, and I assume him. Thankfully, everything worked out in the end. I only recently found this and wanted to share it.

Crazy, crazy, crazy

So there’s a bit going on now. Life is moving along, I’m happy to announce! ^_^

Unfortunately, that also means that my blog is going to be updating a bit slower for the next couple weeks. I’m going to try and update it every couple days, but there’s a lot going on right now and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to manage it. Plus I’m switching Internet providers because the one I have right now sucks.

My family and I have been in contact with each other a lot more in the past couple of days which actually surprises me. I’m glad, though. I miss talking to my family. I’m not always fond of them or how they treat me or my decisions, but they’re my family and I love them.

I think it’s all of the stress that’s been going around (and yes, I know it’s not a contagion or sickness). They’ve been calling to ask about my children and if they’re doing any better, if they’re still sick. I repeat the same thing over and over again: they’re fine and, no, they’re not sick anymore. It seems to placate them about that topic at least.

But there are other things. Specific things to each individual. I’ve talked to both of my aunts and my mother. Everything’s changing and something is going to explode. I caught my aunt in a lie to my mother the other night and I pointed it out to my mom. She wasn’t happy about being lied to, but I can’t blame her; who would be? It’s more than that, though. There’s more and more that’s building.

I don’t even know how to phrase it. It’s just there. Looming. Like a darkness, a shadow. A presence.

But things are happy now. They’re happy around me. It’s just… when I talk to everybody else I get this mixed feeling inside. There’s something else.

I don’t know. I sound crazy, don’t I?