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.

Talking and Happiness

My fiance and I never fight. Seriously. We don’t. It isn’t that I don’t get upset or angry with him and it’s not that he doesn’t get upset or angry with me, it’s the fact that even if I am p*ssed off with him and I bring it up, he’ll avoid any sort of arguement or confrontation; he won’t answer a question directly either. Or, in the opposite view, if he’s angry or upset with me he won’t bring it up at all! He’ll just walk away! Yes, I’m able to tell that he’s angry and upset, but he won’t let me do anything about it. He won’t let me try and talk about it.

I tried to bring it up last night. I did.

Something happened that made him angry. He just, basically, shut himself off. He looked stony, apathetic if you didn’t know him or what to look for; he had stopped talking and was very tense, his eyes were cold, angry. I told him to go listen to some music or watch a movie and calm down. (I knew that’s what he was going to do anyway, so why not suggest it?) I stayed in a different room from my fiance, peeking in on him to see what he was doing. As luck would have it, he was watching “Silent Hill: Revalation”; he never watches horror/thriller movies, so I took it as a bad sign. (What he watches and/or listens too varies upon his mood, like a lot of people.)

I finally started talking to him from the next room. I told, not asked, my fiance that “y’know, sometimes I would rather you just yell at me when you’re upset or angry than say nothing at all because then at least I would know what you’re upset about, because even when I ask you about it you don’t answer”.

There was a pause, and he said something along the lines of “I’m not that kind of person”. And I just blanched. Really? Not that kind of person?

So I said [something like] “Then how are we going to communicate? Going to talk at all? When there are issues between us are we just going to ignore them?”

And you won’t believe what he said [to the extent of]: “What issues?” I wanted to roll my eyes. I think I DID roll my eyes. The conversation was already wearing me out; it really was!

I yelled back at him (because we were in different rooms, I couldn’t talk in a normal-toned voice) “I don’t know, the fact that we can talk about mundane things but not important or serious things? That when you’re upset or I’m upset we can’t comfort each other because quote-unquote ‘you’re not that type of person’. Those kind of issues. I don’t know.”

We didn’t say much from there; that’s about all that really sticks in my mind. It just bothers me though. Yeah, we talk, but like I said in the conversation last night: it’s normally just about mundane things, or it’s a one-sided rant on something important with the other person inserting an opinion or word here/there every once and a while. No, we don’t talk at each other, we actually listen to each other, that much is obvious, but there’s just something wrong with our communication that needs fixed and he doesn’t seem to see it. Yeah, he’ll comfort me when I’m crying by hugging me, but if he knows he’s the cause of it? Nope. No hug. In fact, he’ll completely ignore the fact that I’m crying or that I have been, even when it’s completely obvious – like last night.

No, he’s not cold-hearted. He’s just been hurt and has a ways to heal. He’s dealt with a lot in his life and I think I’m truly the first one to not hurt him or treat him in ways that others have in the past. We’ve been together almost two years and he’s changed a lot, but I don’t think I’ve broken down all of the walls yet and I know it’ll take a while yet.

I just… I hope I remember to ask him [again] tonight what I asked him last night. I only realized earlier that he avoided the question last night, which kind of furthers my point.

I told him last night that one of my deepest fears that I worry over constantly is that one day my children will drive him away, cause they’re a lil’ on the wild side, in a manner of speaking. (I added a couple of other descriptions last night to try and lighten the mood.) I did ask him, though. And I was crying a bit, though I was trying not to. He changed the subject, but only slightly, by saying that he’d been meaning to bring home earplugs to block out the screeching from my youngest child who screeches and screams when he’s unhappy, and all that it takes for my youngest to be unhappy is for me to be out of the room. 😦

And that was the end of the conversation. He’s probably going to be angry when I bring it up again. P*ssed, even, but I’m going to. I can’t stand not knowing when I’ve already asked and it’s bugging me even more because he didn’t answer. Normally not answering something doesn’t bode well.

I think this time I might even tell him that if he’s that unhappy, or if he’s staying just to make me happy, then he has the right to leave. No, I don’t want him to. That’s the last thing in the world I want to happen. Part of my world would die if that happened; he truly is the love of my life, but I don’t want him to be unhappy because of me.

I love him and all I want is for him to be happy and if I don’t make him happy anymore, so be it.

My Life As It Is Now.

It’s… odd. At least to me.

I’ve never been a morning person. Ever. Even when I had to get up early so I could get ready and make sure I was on the bus by a certain time so I wouldn’t miss school, I was the grouchiest lil’ thing in the world. But you’d never know it.

I was good at putting up a happy front. With the life I’ve lived, I had to be otherwise people would be constantly asking me if I was okay, did I need something, or treat me different. Oddly enough, me being happy – or pretending to me, acting like I was – didn’t seem to help and I realized that sometime around my junior year in high school. I stopped caring. I would wake up 10-15 minutes before the bus came; I would brush my hair and pull it up in a ponytail or bun, put on some eyeliner (if I felt like it that day), and grab whatever I could find in my closet. Half the time I re-wore the same pair of jeans 3-4 days in a row. Please don’t get me wrong, though. I did take showers, use deodorant, and keep clean. I just didn’t care about my general body image.

Or socializing. That year I lost all of my friends because they, as I’ve come to find out within the past couple of years, thought I was “too snotty” or “too uppity” or that I thought I was “better than everyone else because I got better grades”. When they told me this these past few years I laughed out loud, and quite obnoxiously at that. Back in that timeframe, I literally just, for lack of better words, didn’t give a fuck. I wasn’t going to “dress to impress” every single day of the week when it was obvious nobody cared anyway. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone beforehand, besides. I was sick and tired of the rumors being said behind my back; that’s why I ignored and just walked passed so many people. They want to talk bad about me and then act like it was nothing? Even when I heard them personally saying it? Ok. Fine. I’ll ignore you.

I’m not a bitch. I give second, third, fourth, and so on chances. But that year I gave up.

Oh, and what’s even funnier? I didn’t have good grades. I got the occasionally A, but it was mostly C’s and D’s, again, the occasional B. I was no where near smart. I cried a lot because I didn’t have good grades and I honestly tried in my classes.

But honestly, none of this is what I wanted to talk about. I just kind of got off track. (But I meant every word.)

My life is different now than it was then. Obviously.

Back then, I wasn’t a mother. I was a teen whose life sucked horribly. At one point I think I considered suicide. Right now I would never even come close to considering it. Right now, in my life, I don’t fake being happy because I genuinely am happy. I don’t put on a happy smile so people will treat me differently. I smile when, well, when it feels right.

Compared to back then, my world is topsy-turvy. I never would have imagined my life as it is now if you would have asked me to back then. I would have said that right now I would either be in college or doing something with my career, maybe planning a wedding or in a serious relationship. The only two that are correct are the “planning a wedding” and “in a serious relationship”, which kind of go hand-in-hand.

At this point in my life I’m a mommy of three and one of my babies, my oldest, is in school. Every weekday morning I wake up between 6:30 and 7AM so I can start getting ready for the day and, more importantly, start getting my baby ready to get on the bus and off to preschool. When we transferred to the school district we’re in now, it was a big switch. Before it was only 2 days a week (Monday and Wednesday) and now it’s preschool every day, which is something I had never heard of.

It’s been three weeks now and we’re finally adjusting to the schedule, though I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that my fiance started his new job and, currently, he’s working a 12-hour shift and leaves at 6AM. (I hate to admit it, but it’s hard to sleep without him.

Recently I’ve been waking up about a half-hour before my fiance leaves for work, though I don’t know how I manage to time that so perfectly. I normally end up staying awake for the rest of the day; I can’t seem to get back to sleep, but by the end of the day I’m ready to pass out. I’ve been getting a lot more done, though. I’ve been eating better or, I should say, I’ve been sticking to my diet better. My kids have been happier and I’ve been sticking them to a better schedule/routine. (Right now it’s about naptime, though they’re fighting it really, really hard. Hence why I’m still typing.) Today I’ve gotten two loads of dishes done, put away one load (from yesterday), swept and mopped the kitchen, taken out the trash can and diaper pail, picked up all of the dirty clothes and started picking up the computer room. Oh! And I finished paying the bills. 🙂 All before 3PM.

This was all between making two bottles three or four times, one sippy cup twice, and handing out snacks at least four times minimum. Oh, and three diaper changes multiplied by 2 with four of those being poopy. And an hour and half (1.5) to two (2) hours was taken up by my oldest wanting me to watch “Pocahantas” with the little booger. The way I was asked I couldn’t say no; besides, it’s one of my favorite Disney movies too! Lol!

But yeah. I feel super accomplished today. I never get this much done.

And believe it or not, my children are currently quiet and asleep now.

Heck. Yes.

Little Bit of This and That

So… updates… yeah….

I haven’t posted for a couple days. *slaps hand* Bad llama!

Yeah, I’ve watched “The Emperor’s New Groove” a couple of times with my kids this week. It’s on Netflix and I like it; so do they. Give me some credit here! ^^;; Lol!

Anyway.

My children went with my mom on Friday, as proposed and my fiance and I, well, we actually didn’t do anything spectacular. Friday night, lessee… I think we ended up driving around in town for a bit before settling at this new Indian restaurant in town; my fiance loves Indian food, or just spicy food in general. And the food was exquisite! I was actually able to eat it! I don’t do spicy well. We got onion Naan and garlic Naan. Yum. 🙂

Then, y’know, we headed home because our tummies were full and played lots and lots of DDR because we’re fatties and need to lose weight. LOL! We stayed up till around 2-3AM that night, I think.

Saturday we slept in till around 2PM and my fiance didn’t even bother to wake me up. Love him to bits, but he could have woken me up. I mean, seriously? I’m not that grumpy when I wake up. I manage to get up at 7AM every weekday morning with little-to-no help from him and get my oldest up, ready, and off to school with no issues. I feel very accomplished with myself, thank you. ^^;; Hehe.

Back to what I was saying.

We woke up and ate a bit. We mostly just snacked. I figured out, though, that I needed to go to David’s Bridal, which is around 30 minutes away from where we live, because I’m in my best friend’s wedding and I still have to get my dress. She’s not making me pay for it, but I had to find the one that I liked the best, looked the best on me, and actually fit me. Oh, and fit her conditions: apple red, floor length, and under $150 at final cost. Mine ended up being a strapless, apple red, flowy chiffon gown. It kinda has that Greek-goddess look to it. I really like it. It’s kind of ironic, though – and I didn’t realize this until yesterday – but the dress I chose for a bridesmaid is almost identical to the dress I have stored at my aunt and uncle’s house for my wedding. The only differences are that my outer layer is more lacy than chiffon and is split in the middle so it’s much more flowy; it’s an off-white, kind of creamy; it has very thin, double-strapped spaghetti straps going over each shoulder. Other than that, they’re pretty much the same. I hope my fiance doesn’t realize that when I’m walking down the aisle toward him in our wedding. ><;;

We ended up eating out after our trip to David’s Bridal.  We browsed around Wal-Mart for a bit, searching for stuff for the kids, stuff we need for the house, just stuff. We were trying to make the most out our last evening without the children, especially considering something had come up at my mom’s house and we had to pick them up early: 12PM early. Though, that kind of put my mind at rest considering the storms we were “supposed” to get (that, I know now, never hit us).

The final stop for my fiance and I was a small restaurant near our house where we stopped and had a few drinks; I think I had three – and whew! My first one was a doozy! My fiance, I think had two mixed drinks and a beer. All my drinks were very large mixed drinks. I guess I still have a decent tolerance even though I don’t really drink anymore. I haven’t had a drink in almost a year, not including the other night obviously.

My fiance and I made it home just fine. Which, just saying, was amazing and that’s not because we had been drinking. It was raining cats and dogs outside when we left the place and when we walked inside there wasn’t a cloud in the sky! I hate it when the weather changes so quickly. :-/

Neither of us was drunk when we got home, so, once again, we went in, fiddled a little on our computers (I pretty much just read a little and went through my newsfeed on facebook then stopped – the storm was messing with the Internet), and then we played DDR… again. We played for so long it was ridiculous. After we finally got tired of playing we watched two episodes of “The Vampire Diaries” – and yes, you read that right – and then we finally realized what time it was.

It was five in the morning (5AM). We were going to be SO dead in the morning. It takes over an hour to get to my mom’s place and we had to be there by noon.

And THAT was my weekend, pretty much, in a nutshell. Lol!

 * * *

In other news, my landlord has finally decided to fix the foundation on the house I’m renting from him. Thank goodness! He’s renewing the wiring too, which isn’t something my fiance and I anticipated or even asked for so I’m quite excited. The unfortunate part is that it’s going to take a week or two to fix everything that actually needs fixing, so hopefully they get it done fast. They’ve been here since Monday.

Would you believe they actually created a hole in the foundation and then redid it? Now there’s an even bigger breeze going through my basement into the house. I’m so blah about it. I mean, they’re fixing it – you can tell – and I think they poured cement into it today, but still… a hole?! Gah. I just don’t understand these people.

And I’m only going to mention this briefly because I’m so ashamed with myself: I haven’t written on my NaNoWriMo novel since my last update. I’M SO ASHAMED!!!!!

Oh, and the WiiFit is down. Apparently I weigh 300-something pounds now. Just saying, I did NOT gain over 90 pounds in 1 week. I definitely don’t look like I did. Besides, I’m down a dress size. Oh, and my fiance didn’t gain over 100 pounds either. I saw him when he weighed almost 300 pounds and what he looks like now is SO not it. Stupid WiiFit.

But on the up-side, my fiance is a working man again! He got a job that pays $10/hour today! And he starts tomorrow! It’s a 12-hour rotating shift; he works three days on, three days off. I’m not sure about much else than that. I mean, I know he’s a trainee for now, but other than that…. ^^;;

I guess things are starting to look up for us finally! Something bad will happen sooner or later, but until that happens, I will continue to relish in my happiness. My three children are my most precious and my fiance is the love of my life.

I’m happy. Truly, wonderfully happy. ❤

Truly Happy

I have few true happinesses in my life. But I have them.

They are different than the things that make me smile. Something good happening to my favorite character on a TV show can make me smile. Reading a book and finding out that the two lovers, once seperated, finally found their way to each other again (even though it’s highly predictable) can make me smile.

Seriously, brownies can make me smile. And that was before my diet.

It’s just… those aren’t the kind of things that I’m talking about.

I’m talking about the feeling I get when my youngest child walks over to me when I’m sitting down and climbs up on my lap and just hugs me; just wraps his arms around me the best he can [since he’s so small] and lays his head on my chest and cuddles into me. It’s that feeling.

It’s the feeling I get when my oldest child runs up to me and latches onto my leg in an imitation of hugging and looks up to me with a huge smile and his eyes bright and tries to say, in his working language, “Love you, Mommy”.

It’s the feeling I get when I see my fiance smile. When he holds my hand. When he says or does something for no other reason than to make me laugh.

It’s the feeling when my fiance and I are laying together at night, my head on his chest and his arms around me, and I feel secure, safe, loved and we’re talking about nothing and everything.

It’s those moments when I feel Truly Happy.

Love & Friendship Prevails

I’m… so happy.

I honestly didn’t expect this outcome. I guess it shows I should have a little more faith in the young woman that I have deemed my best friend.

She came over earlier; it was the last day she was going to be in town before heading back out of state for classes at her college. She has a long drive. Anyways, she brought her nephew with her and me, her, and my fiance hung out. Well, more like me and her hung out, my fiance made waffles and jello, and her nephew and my children all played in the living room. It was… different, to say the least.

Then, finally, at one point, she asked me if I was still coming to her wedding. I didn’t have a response. I just asked her if she had talked to her fiance about it. She said she had, and that they had come to a screaming match about it because while he believed me, he also didn’t believe his friend (the guy who date-raped me) could be such a bad guy. I didn’t know what to say. I told her I wanted to be in the wedding, I didn’t want to ruin her wedding, but I couldn’t be around him. I felt like I was raped, completely violated, and just… couldn’t. She countered by saying that we were both equally drunk and if I had given him any signals that I had liked him beforehand, it could’ve been considered consent.

Well, let’s just say the conversation stopped there momentarily.

I went in the kitchen and talked to my fiance. She got called upon by her nephew and had to use the bathroom. When, at one point, my fiance walked out of the kitchen and I stayed behind making a snack for myself, she came in and talked to me; we continued our conversation.

I don’t know where exactly we started out the conversation again – I think we repeated a bit of it – but I did point out a couple things that I’m not sure she knew. Yes, before it happened I considered myself having a developing “crush”, for lack of better term, on him and apparently she mentioned that to him before the “party” got started; it was her very-much belated birthday party with a bunch of friends and we all got shit-faced drunk.

Here’s the thing. I was one of the last people up; so was he. One of the last things I remember is going into the bathroom to take my epilepsy meds that I forgot to take in all the excitement (that I should have taken before I started drinking) and changing into shorts and a t-shirt to sleep in. After that I walked into the bedroom across the hall from the bathroom that my best friend told me I could sleep in, and well, it gets fuzzier and fuzzier from there. Because, y’see, I don’t remember how or when he got into the room in my bed. I know I didn’t invite him. I may have had a “developing crush” but I don’t sleep with someone on the first date, or even before I get to know them. So, seriously?!

I do know, and I’m not proud to say this – I’m actually quite ashamed – that after I laid down on my bed I did try and go to sleep, but he started touching me. I must have been hardcore drunk, and I mean plastered, at the time, because I never would have done what I did otherwise because it was my best friend’s house (and my first time there, nonetheless), but I gave him a blowjob.

But then I just blacked out; I passed out. That’s all I remember, and then I woke up in the morning and…. I’m not going into detail with that, but let’s just say that it was very obvious that something had happened other than just a blowjob and I had not given consent. I’m sure if you put your mind to it, you can imagine a detail or two that would make it obvious.

… Oh, and there’s the fact that he saluted me as he tried to sneak out of the bottom of the bed. I woke up as he was trying to and looked at him. Asshole.

There’s more to it, though. As my former-military fiance has explained to me and, yesterday, to my best friend, if a female passes out and you still have sex with her, that’s automatic rape whether you were about to have sex or not. If she passes out she isn’t able to say yes or no, so it’s considered date-rape. When he was in the military it was imbedded into his head because, apparently, there were some [in his words] “pretty fucked up dudes” in the military with him that would actually wait until a woman was passed out and then have sex with her, just to get off.

I explained all of this to my best friend. I explained everything that happened to me. In detail. I told her how after I lay there, in that bed where it had happened, for at minimum 30 minutes, I got up, gathered my things, and took a hour-long shower. (Which she says she remembers thinking was unusual because I never take showers that long.) She brought up how maybe he didn’t know what he did was wrong because I never brought it up and told him. I looked her straight in the eye and told her that I tried to talk to him multiple times over that weekend and he just turned away from me without saying so much a word and she was witness to it. I asked if she remembered. She did.

She asked me more questions, various questions, to make sure she got the whole story, but there wasn’t much more to tell. I asked her though, and I was crying by this time, if she remembered when I started sleeping with all those men from the bar for a couple of months? She nodded. I told her “after being raped 3 times in a little less than a year and a half I felt that’s all I was good for”.

And then she started crying along with me.  She said she never realized and that she was sorry. She told me that she’d confronted him about how he acted like such an asshole after the blowjob and he just said “but we didn’t have sex”, but that she hadn’t mentioned anything else because she only found out a couple of months ago. My best friend said any other time she tried to bring up me around him in a conversation, he would just turn and walk away. That on the ride home from her place [out of state] last year he told everyone how he couldn’t understand how anyone could stand me for more than an hour or two.

I had no comment. I didn’t know what to say. That it’s pretty much an admission of guilt? That it’s completely immature? That he’s just an asshole? I had so many things, so many responses, that I wanted to say, but I didn’t know how so I just kept my mouth shut.

After a good cry and trying to figure out our options, she decided to call her fiance and figure things out once and for all; I told her my main goal was to be as far away from him as possible. I didn’t want to see him, be around him, anything. Our compromise was that he would be taken out of the bridal party and just be invited and made to promise to stay away from me at all costs, even if he wants to talk to somebody near me. (“If I get to pull my Bridezilla card only once during this wedding, this will be it. It is called the Bridal Party.”)

So she called her fiance; I listened to the conversation on her end [with permission, of course]. I was completely blown away by the response her fiance gave her. In fact, actually, so was she. We were prepared for a fight, hence the compromise we had prepared. Because of her fiance we didn’t even need it. He told her that if she would feel the same way [and she told him she would] and that if she felt that strongly about it then he was out. Not even invited.

She understood what I was going through because it had happened to her before. Her fiance listened to her because he loves her. Something happened, something wonderful, and now I can be with my best friend on her wedding day.

I am literally crying right now at the miracle of it all. 

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Any questions brought on by this blog-post article might be answered in this blog-post that I wrote shortly after this one. If you have a question that is not answered, feel free to leave a comment and I will answer it to the best of my ability. Thank you.

Post-Note: To Prevent Confusion

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Exciting Day Ahead… Hopefully

Yes, yes, I know. It’s so late that it’s ridiculous. Blame my children. They’re sick and have their sleep schedule off. Well, sort of . They’re kind of sleeping at all hours of the day and just randomly getting hyper at random moments of the day – or night, in this case.

Anyways!

I have happy, joyous news! My fiance and I have finally saved up enough money to get a house together! Here’s the kicker, though: now we have to find one! There seems to be absolutely NONE available in the general area we wanted to move. I don’t want my oldest child to transfer schools, which I might end up having my baby transfer anyway. So that’s going to suck if it ends up happening. I called on four different houses in the past two days and, get this, all of them were sold or rented out less than a week before my call. I think I’m jinxed. I told my fiance he needed to start making the calls for houses because I have bad luck with it.

BUT! We’re supposed to be going to look at a place later today, so I have hope. Friday the 13th is a lucky day for my fiance and I, believe it or not; we originally got together on a Friday the 13th and our wedding date is going to be on one as well! Neither of us is very superstitious, if at all, so it’s all just kind of fun to me and him. We love the idea of it.

I’m getting off topic, though.

We want to find a place within a week, preferably, at most two, so we can move into said house by the end of the month and we won’t have to pay our individual rents. I have to give a “30 day notice” to my apartment complex before I move out anyway, along with cleaning out the apartment and mending any possible mishaps that may have happened. There do happen to be some holes in the walls from baby gates. Bleh.

I’m very excited though. I can’t wait! We searched for a picture online of the house earlier that we’re going to look at tomorrow (we have the address – well, my fiance does) and it looks nice. It’s fenced in, so it’s safe for the children to play outside in the backyard. It has two-levels with 3 bedrooms AND an office and large kitchen. I’m so excited. The office will help my fiance and I since both of us have a large book collection and seperate computers that we both work on. Plus, I’ll be starting college courses in the spring, finally, so I’ll be on the computer more.

I really hope we get the house! I can’t say it enough! I’m just so excited! Wish my fiance and I luck! [Please? Lol!]