This Girl Is Half His Age Don’t Stand So Close To Me

I made a mistake.

As a mom. I didn’t realize how my comment would affect Little E until the other day I went to give him a hug and kiss, which is pretty standard in our house and he turned his head so I could only kiss his cheek as opposed to his lips. So I asked if he was to mature to give his mom a little kiss? Let’s be reasonable here just for discussions sake. It’s not like we kiss with tongue or anything longer then a quick kiss to show affection and love. It’s nothing sexual and totally fine. But when I asked that he replied that no, it wasn’t because he was to cool, it was that a few days ago I made the comment that he should not kiss Z (his little sister for my new readers) on the lips. Now. For perspective, my kids just turned 6&9 this summer. And once in a while when they go to bed or say goodbye, they’ll give each other a big hug and a kiss. And apparently my uncomfortableness felt the need to push its way to the surface finally and I asked them to build walls between themselves to make myself feel better.

When he said that, I felt like shit.

I didn’t mean to cause him to think showing affection towards anyone is a negative thing, or something that needed to be reviewed in his life. In fact I have no logical reason for making that offhand comment to him other than for the same reason I no longer allow them to bathe together or don’t let them have sleepovers in each other’s rooms. I have fear.

I don’t want anything happening to Z. Now please, please don’t get me wrong. I don’t think Little E would ever do anything intentionally her or vice versa but as a mother I have to understand kids are innocent, but they also like to explore. So since I have the knowledge of that, I have to use my personal position as an adult in authority to prevent any harm to either of them in anyway that I can. That includes any potential sexual exploration among each other.

I know. This is a very taboo topic. And one that each family decides for themselves.

I for myself was never sexually assaulted as a child by a family member, but when you hear stories, you want to make sure you are considerate of others pain, and think of ways to keep your own kids safe.

Obviously, I’m being on the extreme side when I bring up the term sexual assault. But it starts somewhere. And so I have to teach both of my kids safe boundaries in regards to how they treat their bodies as well as how they approach others. I wanted to make sure Z felt ok with how she was being ‘loved’ and also that just because someone else wanted a kiss, didn’t mean she had too. I said the same thing to Little E. Like if we go to even a family get together or something and you don’t want to hug or kiss someone, you don’t have to. And from there, no he felt uncomfortable giving me a kiss to.

So I guess that’s my own fault, but I also think it’s ok in a way. It’s making him think through intimacy and boundaries. I don’t want him to think it’s never ok to kiss others, but I want there to definitely open up a conversation about it.

We’ll see where this goes from here. And I apologize this post is all over the place. I’ve written it in bits and pieces over the day and don’t feel like even reading it over for consistency’s sake. But thanks for reading anyways.

Has anyone had this issue or conversation with your own kids? How did it go? Or did you just leave them on their own to grow and figure it out alone? Let me know!

-The Police/Don’t Stand So Close To Me-

I Wake Up In The Basement I’m So Hungry/ I Must Be Here Sleepwalking

How to explain the unexplainable.

Sunday night I made homemade spaghetti and meatballs with ceaser salad for dinner and the kids loved it. Everything was all good. So I decided to send the leftovers with them to daycare for lunch the next day. I asked Z to get out 2 containers for me to divide it up for them. She made a big deal about her getting the green lid one and Little E said he wanted the green one too, leaving the blue lid unclaimed (seems like a stupid detail but just wait). I ignored them hoping they would forget about it by the morning, a pick your battle kinda situation and just closed them up and made my salad in my own Tupperware, with a red lid for anyone keeping track. Then I stacked all three in the fridge, thinking nothing more about it.

Skip forward to Monday morning when I tell Little E to get their lunches ready and he says there’s only one spaghetti container in the fridge. I yell from the bathroom to look harder KNOWING I just put it in there last night, three Tupperware one on top of the other. You can’t miss it. A minute later he calls back saying it’s not there.

So I’m thinking he’s just being lazy and not seeing something that’s surely right in front of his nose, and I stomp off to the kitchen prepared to whip the door open and prove him wrong and find the green lidded container that had most likely dropped behind something and go one with our day. I open the fridge. I look. I can’t find it. I LOOOOOOK hard. It’s not there. I look in the freezer. It’s not there. I check kitchen cabinets. Nope. I look in the damn garbage. Nothing. I call Z thinking she might’ve possibly hid it in some secret place to ensure she got the green top. She has no clue. I might’ve gone over board on my interrogation techniques, because seriously wtf could it have gone, but I could tell both the kids had no clue, and as a mom you know if your kid is lying. So I let it go as far as them lying went.

Then, since I was running out of options I even went so far as to check to make sure all the outer doors to our house were locked (lol I know) to make sure no one came into our house in the middle of the night and indulged on my fantastic spaghetti and then left leaving everything else untouched. Locked, obviously. So now I’m left with sleep walking/eating? And I’m like 100% sure it’s not my kids since I hear when they get outta bed to use the washroom. Little E is in a metal bunk bed that makes hella noise when he moves let alone gets in and out. And Z just doesn’t understand how to open a door quietly. So was it me? Like honestly did I eat or hide this stupid container? I’m not sure about anything anymore.

So I give Little E my salad since we’re running out of time and I have to get to work. When we got home I started a mass hunt for this thing. I looked through the fridge thoroughly again, under couch cushions and beds. Double-checked all the cupboards and drawers. Backpacks and purses. Everywhere and anywhere I thought of I searched and I can’t find the stupid Tupperware. And I know I used it because it’s not in the cupboard clean. It’s not in the dishwasher. I remember the kids fighting over it.

So we have some proverbial fairy stealing pasta making me go crazy. But I honestly have no idea what happened to it, and I don’t want to find it in a week or two based on the rotting smell coming out of somewhere.

And if someone in my house IS sleep walking? Well that’s just a whole other level of stress I don’t have patience for.

– Alice Cooper / The Awakening –

The End

Hello all.

Thanks for taking the time out of your lives over the last year and a bit to learn about mine.

Unfortunately life is just to shitty to even find the desire to write and update you guys anymore so I’ve decided to shutdown the whole blogging part of who I am for now.

Thanks for understanding.

C.

I Got Just One Life In A World That Keeps On Pushin’ Me Around But I’ll Stand My Ground

My Grandpa has been calling.

I haven’t answer the phone because, well because I didn’t want to talk to him. He first left a voicemail maybe 2 weeks ago now.

FullSizeRender

But this morning when my phone rang, I didn’t recognize the number so I picked up. Turns out, he had got in touch with his friend and had managed to get his hands on a ‘package’ for me.

I guess he’s coming down this weekend for Thanksgiving but he was worried about how he was going to get it on the plane (good call). So he wanted to get my address from me.

I could tell he’d either been thinking it through or he’s done this before, because he was explaining how his post office has special packages he can use to wrap it and he’ll use a fake return address, all this detail. So I’m leaning towards this not being his first time doing  something along these lines/sending drugs through the mail.

He also said this one’s on him, and all I could think was it’s the least he could do. Well that and not expect me to offer to roll one with him… Ever.

That being said. I’ve been waffling back and forth between telling my sister R about what happened with my Grandpa. I don’t want to make a big deal about it for my sake, but I want to make her aware of it for her kids safety. I have 4 nieces, and I would be horrified if something happened to them that I could have prevented by letting R know. But on the other hand I don’t want to cause issues if this was a one-off situation… like I think to myself how far would he really go? My nieces are YOUNG!?!

So for now, I’m not officially decided, but since there’s been no talk of my nieces visiting him any time soon, I at least have some time to make the decision. Although if I find out my sister is considering sending them there for a visit without other adult supervision… like next summer for a vacation or something, then 100% I’m telling her.


-Tom Petty/I Won’t Back Down-

Are We Getting Closer Or Are We Just Getting More Lost

I’m so upset!

In my big air of productivity during the last week, I managed to finally get my act together to change Little E’s name. Which you would think would be a great thing right? Since I’ve only been waiting a couple years to do it right? Well being the idiot that I am I didn’t think it through and so I went to the registry office with all my paper work signed all nice and proper. All my i’s dotted and t’s crossed. I had all my supporting documents… everything. I thought all my ducks were in a row.

What I didn’t think about though, was how when I handed in my supporting papers, which included Little E’s birth certificate, I might need them during the next 4-6 months, which is how long the name change will take.

I didn’t consider that I might need it to get Little E a new passport for when I’d like to take my kids on this great trip I’ve been looking forward to for months.

Now when I pulled out our passports tonight to finally book the perfect 7 night, all-inclusive, cruise with stops in Jamaica… guess what?

Yep. Little E’s passport is expired. Meanwhile Z and mine? Perfectly fine. Like what are the ridiculous odds. Little E is now 7 and has already had 2 passports, both chock-full of stamps, and now I have to get him a third. Yet I can’t because I had to surrender his birth certificate up in order to change his name.

Which means my 30th birthday cruise? Is a no go.

I’m so disappointed in myself. I’ve actually been looking forward to that so much.

It’s just… frustrating yet again.


-Rise Against/Swing Life Away-

I Never Lose Nothing But Damn I Done Had It I Ain’t Never Strike Out They Can’t Average What I Batted No

So thanks to E constantly delaying the divorce, today is officially my eight year wedding anniversary. And I’ve spent 3.5 of those years trying to put E in my past. It’s a work in progress.

August 7th, 2009. The seventh day, of the eighth month, of the ninth year. E didn’t care when we got married but to me it was important and plus it looked aesthetically pleasing on the invitation. 07.08.09.

But now, 8 years later and it’s all a moot point. 8 years of life with him that, to be fair is almost done. The divorce papers (like I’m sure I’ve said before, and will probably say again) are almost signed. We’re just waiting on E and hopefully he doesn’t find something else to comment on and ask to change last-minute again.
But that’s not the reason I’m writing today.

When I woke up this morning, on my ‘anniversary’ I found myself reflecting back at my life not so much during the past eight years, but more just the past 1 year, and at how much has changed, and I just wanted to do a recap. Mostly for myself. To remind myself, that yeah C, you continue to make shitty mistakes but you also are growing as an individual. And that’s what’s important.
So, without further ado, here’s my year in review.

  • I bought and moved into my very own house with only my name on the mortgage.
  • I quit a high stress job for an equal paying position but I work only 4 days a week now, receive bonuses and my boss is way cooler.
  • I tried marijuana for the first time this year and now take edibles almost daily. They’ve helped so much with the headaches I used to get from my seizures.
  • I got my empty birdcage tattoo to represent that there are no bars holding me back anymore as well as replaced two piercings (one on my wrist and one on my ankle) I had to remove a long time ago for an MRI..
  • I went to a shooting range and shot a gun for the first time, doing quite well at it.
  • I bought tickets for my first couple of concerts. Jay Z in December, and also I’m taking my Dad to see Guns and Roses this month for his birthday… to be honest I’m actually most excited to see Our Lady Peace who’s opening for them lol, they were the first CD I ever bought and Innocent is my jam!
  • Had my Grandma pass away.
  • Stopped attending church to take some time and figure out what I truly believe.
  • Went to a psychic for the first time for a palm reading and chakra clearing.
  • Started my first official diet (Jenny Craig), that I chose to do on my own not because my mom was pressuring me to. And have lost 15 pounds on it so far (about 1.5 months).
  • Heck I even went on a couple of firsts ‘dates’! Lame ones but I got out there.
  • Bought a guitar (I owned 2 as a teen but I sold one and the other was stolen when E and I had our house broken into) yesterday. I realized if music is my passion, and I love it so much, then do something about it again. Make a way to enjoy it more in my everyday life.
  • Started this blog 😎.

So maybe I am growing as a person. Maybe I have learned from some of my mistakes. Maybe I am becoming a better me. Oh trust me, I know I’m still making stupid choices. But maybe… just maybe, they are becoming fewer and farther between?

So for now, I’m for real going to go buy myself some “anniversary” roses. Because I can. And I need them. And I’m the only one whose gonna do it.


-Future Ft. Nicki Minaj/You Da Baddest-

Figures, I Gave You Ride Or Die And You Gave Me Games/Love Figures I Gave You All And You Gave Me Shit

I’ve never felt so outright disrespected probably ever, at least that I can remember. W? He was killed. E? Never knew what he was doing. But this? This is K actively being… well just awful.

So the mess with K? Well I’ve been working behind the scene trying to get word to him. Making sure he knew that he needed to add people to his contact list and all that jazz.

Just a refresher though…
K asked me originally to track down his final check from work and send him the money. So I’m thinking he’s expecting something from me in the mail to be delivered to the prison, and therefore will want my name added to his list of approved contacts. Sounds logical right? To me it does.

Well not only was the original money order ($100 out of my own pocket just so he would have something) I sent returned to me because he hasn’t added my name to his approved list, but when I tried to get word to K about the approved contact list, because in my mind I’m thinking he must not know about it if he hasn’t already added my name… he called yesterday to basically piss all over me about it.

Saying no, don’t bother with the money anymore, keep it for him in the bank (yeah right) he’s had my address memorized the whole time…and he’ll call me when he gets out. He doesn’t want me to be anymore involved in this prison stuff.

Fuck no!

Who does he think he is? Making that choice for me, about when our relationship/friendship/fucked up life goes on hold? On the call yesterday he revealed that he’d been calling everyone EXCEPT me. And all this time, I’m writing him, and trying to do what I can to support him, and now he’s throwing it in my face. I don’t even know how, but somehow it’s my fault for trying to be there for him.

He told me months ago how his ex twisted things for him the first time he went in, messed shit up on the outside and played with some shit that screwed him over, and I was trying instead to do the exact opposite of that. But apparently he’s been calling the ex (and everyone else) and she’s been twisting my words and making me look like scum and he’s just eating it up, without a second thought. He didn’t even bother to ask me what happened between me and the ex when we chatted on the phone, he just took whatever she said at face value, even knowing that she’s already fucked him over before.

I’m like wow. You just believe everything she said point blank. You haven’t even called me. You asked me to do these few things for you and when I try and follow them through, you shit all over me.
Then you say you’ll call me when your out, like that should be some gift to me.

No thanks.

A few people have said things along the lines of guys don’t like to mix the life inside with out here and try to just do their time, then move on when they get out. People who don’t even know K and I and all that’s happened. And if that was the case, I MIGHT have been more understanding. But nope. He seems perfectly comfortable mixing the two worlds when he calls his family or friends from back home or his ex, who already messed up prison for him once. So like what the fuck.

It’s a damn privilege to have someone like me in your life and you K… just fucked yourself over. I literally would’ve been a ride or die. So to choose to push me aside? Dumb.


-Jessie Reyez/Figures-

Figures
I gave you ride or die and you gave me games
Love figures
I know I’m crying ’cause you just won’t change
Love figures
I gave it all and you gave me shit
Love figures
I wish I could do exactly what you did
I wish I could hurt you back
Love, what would you do if you couldn’t get me back
You’re the one who’s gonna lose
Something so special, something so real
Tell me boy, how in the fuck would you feel?
If you couldn’t get me back
That’s what I wish that I could do to you, you, hoo, hoo
To you, you, hoo, hoo
Figures
I’m the bad guy ’cause I can’t learn to trust
Love figures
You say sorry once and you think it’s enough
I got a lineup of girls and a lineup of guys
Begging for me just to give ’em a try
Figures
I’m willing to stay
‘Cause I’m sick for your love
I wish I could hurt you back
Love, what would you do if you couldn’t get me back
You’re the one who’s gonna lose
Something so special, something so real
Tell me boy, how in the fuck would you feel?
If you couldn’t get me back
That’s what I wish that I could do to you, you, hoo, hoo
To you, you, hoo, hoo
Figures

A Lady In The Street But A Freak In The Bed

I just wanna cry.

At myself. At my continuous dumb decisions. At the world. At men. At life right now.

I’m literally overwhelmed. And crying as I type, yet I can’t pinpoint the exact reason why because so many fucked up things continue to occur.

I thought I was done with K after that letter I sent. But then last night his ex girlfriend texts me asking if I’ve heard from him. After a few texts back and forth, I learn that no one has heard from K. Not his brother, not his ex, even his best friend last heard from him the week I did. So now, I’m feeling like a bitch.

I assumed he had made a choice not to call/write me… but what if something has happened to him???? Like honest to goodness what if some of the guys he was telling me about who had it out for him jumped him and he ended up unconscious or worse?
And here I’ve been only thinking about myself. The Ex was tryna say that if he could’ve called he would’ve and that K is the most loyal person she knows… and I know those things. But I’m very insecure, and have obvious trust issues. Plus just based on how we left everything… ‘no strings attached’ and how he said he wasn’t going to call during our last phone call, I was lead to believe he had moved on.

But now, hearing that he hasn’t called anyone! I’m actually concerned about him.
So of course I tried calling the prison where I was told (again) that they don’t give out information on inmates. I explained that no one has heard from him in a few weeks, how are we to know if he’s ok? Like do they contact someone if he gets injured? And the guy on the phone said he couldn’t give out that information.

So I’m literally no better than I was before.

Before he even got sent back, K insisted I move on and not spend his entire sentence waiting for him. He specifically told me he’d hate me forever if I ever visited him. He didn’t want me to have anything to do with his criminal side. He wanted me to be free and live free. I think he knew that if he got sent back, it could be for a few months, or once inside, it could turn into much longer than that. And he didn’t want me waiting on him. I don’t think he wanted to have to be dealing with me while inside either. When he was with me, and the K who was on the inside were two different personas. And that was to save his life. He had to maintain a toughness while incarcerated, and that wasn’t the same K he presented to me. So I think he just needed to keep space between the two. What I didn’t know in the moment was if it was only for while he was in, or if he had decided to turn his back on the K I knew forever.

I spent an entire two days trying to ‘move on’ even though I thought about K a considerable amount of time. I felt like it was do able. I was chatting with Army Guy (one of the guys who DM’s me after my selfie last week/week before) and it helped to focus my attention elsewhere.
Army Guy was very straight forward and seemed to have his shit together. He also wanted to take me out on a date date. Grand promises of steak and lobster dinners. Well to be fair he didn’t promise but he seemed to legitimately want to take me out.

He been out of town fighting the fires in BC for a few days and just got back recently and really wanted to see me. Turns out he lives like 2 blocks from my work and he used to joke about just showing up with coffee for me one day. I 100% told him that would just be awkward.
Try and envision meeting someone you’re potentially going to date, at work for the first time. The uncomfortable hellos in front of coworkers and then what do you introduce them as. Not to mention the whole explaining it all to your coworkers after. No thanks. Not for me.
So, to circumvent that scenario, when he texted me today as I was wrapping up at work, saying he got off early, we made plans to meet quickly at his place before he headed to the gym. Not before promising me he’d ‘behave’ of course. 😐.
So I drove the 2 minutes to Army Guys place and he came down to meet me. Once in his place I got comfortable on the couch and he got me some ice for my ankle, which I twisted pretty badly 2 nights ago. Then we chatted for maybe 5 minutes while he kept getting up and pacing around, all the while trying to hide his boner 😜.

Then he finally stopped pacing and bent over me and kissed me. Well. I don’t mean like a well well well. I mean he kissed me well as in good.
As for me? I would’ve been fine with a good ol fashion make out session, but men for some reason always want more.

So, maybe there was a little more, but obviously not enough. Army Guy had to meet his gym buddy and I basically just wanted my date, so although there was more… there wasn’t MORE. So he asked if I could come back TONIGHT. Yeeeeaaaaah that’s a hard no.

I left with mixed feelings.

I love being kissed and touched and all that good stuff. It’s definitely my love language. So in that sense, I enjoyed my afternoon. But part of me wanted to cry on the drive home. And well, I did a little.
I felt like I had let part of myself down.
I want to be treated like a lady? So I should start acting like more of one.
Army Guy texted me less than 5 minutes after we both drove off and I was completely honest in my response.

So. There it is.

Why can I just be part of an old married couple who plans their sex nights in advance already?
Why can’t I just bypass all this drama. K, Army Guy, and then there’s J who I haven’t even had time to mention yet, but has been trying to get with me for months and for some reason I’ve made plans like 3 times with him and always end up cancelling last minute.

Maybe my fears of being pregnant are true? That would help explain all the emotions I’ve got going on.


-Usher/Yeah-

Wake Me Up When It’s All Over. When I’m Wiser And I’m Older. 

As we were preparing to get married, E shared a “tradition” from back home that he wanted us to partake in. This might be difficult to explain as it’s regarding names and I try to avoid using real name here for anonymity sake, as well as the fact that the “tradition” turned out to be 100% fake, and we did something that I’m, to this day, trying to remedy because E felt like making up some random story just for shits and giggles.

Anyways the tradition he told me went something like this… and keep in mind at this point, I’d never yet been to Kenya, and I had no reason to doubt anything E was saying, because quite frankly I never thought anyone would be capable of making up stuff as extreme as this just… well just because I guess, normal people I’d met up until that point never lied like E did. I’ll never actually know why he did it.

So, he told me that when a man gets married, at least in his tribe, it was custom for him to drop his last/surname and have his middle name became his new last name. So from that point on, he’d only be known by his first and middle name=his new last name.

So if I was dating a Billy Frank Smith, when we got married he would still be known as Billy, but our new last/surname would be Frank, and Smith would be out of the picture making my new husband only Billy Frank, and me C Frank. He said then as a man, you would be starting your own family and be more removed from your Dads ‘tribe’. Also, to make it even more complex (as everything with E was), the middle names when choosing a baby’s name were to be chosen from a limited group of ‘family’ names. So that the man could still be recognized as part of this certain tribe. He said they do it this way so that as a man gets married it is his way of starting his own tribe/family.

I hope I’m explaining it well, because trust me it was confusing as heck to me. Probably because it’s not a tradition that his tribe had been following for centuries or has ever done. It was something E made up in his mind. But I trusted him, because this was the man I was going to marry so I figured he was telling the truth, and I had no reason not to believe in him. Plus it was so absurd, how could it not be true, right?

Therefore at our wedding we had to make it known during a speech to explain how we would be known as Mr and Mrs M. instead of the expected original Mr. and Mrs. S that everyone was expecting, being that it was the name everyone had known E by. Since E was still dealing with immigration issues though and both of our names were on so many of those documents at that time as our maiden names, neither of us changed our names at that point, which was for the best. The person it has affected most though, is Little E.

When I became pregnant with him, more about this whole name thing was ‘explained’ to me by E. About how the middle names should be chosen from selected tribe names etc. At this time, our plan was that we would be moving to Kenya and living there on a more permanent basis, and I really wanted my kids to fit in as much as possible and was counting on E’s advice to make that happen. So E supplied me with a list of about 5-7 male names from his family tree that we had to choose from for Little E’s middle name, that, according to E would one day be his last name once he married. We settled on a name that sounded good when said start to finish “Little E, then the chosen middle name (also started with M) then the last name M’ that we would all have one day once we finished our paperwork. So it was decided. I thought.

Until literally 5-10 minutes after I had given birth to Little E and I was drugged up and totally out of it and E decides to ask if we can change everything we had previously decided on.

Instead of the original E.M.M, for the newly born baby boy, he wanted Little E to be named E.S.M. So that little E’s middle name would be E’s current last name starting with S. So that when Little E gets married and drops the last name of M, he will have E’s family name of S remaining. Confused? I was too.  I said yes, because I just didn’t care at the time, I was just glad my baby was healthy and I had successfully brought forth life. Plus I had JUST given birth, and was in no position to argue.

So Little E now had the initials E. S. M. Not to bad eh? Well, it was fine, until we flew with our little boy to Kenya, where lo and behold, his family and pretty much everyone else in the entire country told me that E was full of crap. They’d never heard of that tradition before. I was mad. Now E has gone and messed with our kids names! And for what???

I confronted him about it and all he could say was that he must’ve been mistaken, and that oh ok, we’ll keep the original S last name like usual. I couldn’t believe it. Did he not realize that now Little E has the S middle name and now E says it should be his last name too!?!? Like are you kidding me? Your want our son to be called Little E then Smith Smith for example? No thanks.

So I bring it up today because Little E has finally chosen a new middle name. He understands that his middle name of S will now be his last name so he can match Z and Dad and Mom and all share the same last/surname and since I am too stubborn and did not want Little E to just have his middle name and last name switch place, mainly because I don’t want E to have that small pleasure of having his family name remain after all the chaos his lies caused. So we’ve been taking our time deciding on a brand new middle one. And Little E choose it today.

We’ve read through many names and meanings and Little E choose the name Theo. It means divine gift and he loves it and although there are others that I might prefer, I don’t mind giving him the lead on this choice as I can see the confidence it gives him. Plus it’s a step up from last summer when he wanted to change it to Tyrannosaurus. Plus if it was that awful I would always veto it. But I think he choose well and I’ll be working on the legal process to change it throughout the coming weeks. Oh and yes, it’s already been documented in the divorce that I can change his name without consent from E, because of the exact reasoning above. So we’re in the clear. Although I did inform E of Little E’s choice and he is fine with it.

So, I guess all I can say is I’m not a fan of fake tradition.


-Avicii/Wake Me Up-

Where Did I Go Wrong I Would Have Stayed Up With You All Night Had I Known How to Save a Life

I fucken messed up. Majorly. Not just something simple that I could fix with an apology. But I messed up someone’s everyday living.

I didn’t tell the whole story about last Friday with K and I.

Yes, K came over and told me he loved me for the first time. Yes, he said no strings attached. Yes, the sex was amazing. But I left out the fact that I was already high when he came over. I also left out the fact that he also got high when he arrived.

Now I only smoke weed. Nothing to serious, and I do so quite often as I’ve found that it’s not only enjoyable, but has seriously helped with my headaches that my seizures cause. K’s drug of choice is a little more illicit, although in the end I guess it wouldn’t have mattered, because K is still on parole, which means no drugs or alcohol of any sort.

Last time K had a close call he swore off it until he was at least done his parole, and he was following his promise to a T. Until I started messing around with us and writing basically any/all of my posts from last week. They led him to both finally say I love you to me, but also get high again.

I know it’s his own choice and I cannot stop him, which although I mention it, I don’t attempt to grab the pipe out of his hands, because I know ultimately it’s his choice, just like me getting high of marijuana is my choice. But I can’t help thinking I did not at all help the situation.

The reason this is so important? Because yesterday he had to do another random drug test for parole, which he was quite confident he would fail. And he wanted to go on the run which since I’ve never been to prison I don’t know his thought process behind, but it must suck to consider going on the run for the rest of your life instead of going back for the remainder of your warrant, which in his case is about 10 months. I told him it wasn’t worth it, and that I would come visit him, and that he still has the rest of his life ahead of him… and that was it… he had to go saying he would call me.

No call all night, until this morning, where he tells me he talked again to his Parole Officer explaining the situation and she says that she would talk to her supervisor but didn’t think there was much she could do. He also told me if I visited him in prison, he would hate me forever. Probably because he doesn’t want me to see him like that, which is ridiculous, but I’ll respect it.

But then it happened. A single Instagram post with the cops outside his window saying “I’m gon”

And now?

Now I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to get ahold of anyone in jail/prison before. I don’t know what to do. And the thing is, it’s been so rough the last maybe week, all because of me, and I can’t help but think, if I had handled things better, then maybe he would’ve handled things differently, and the result would be far from here.

All I know is I still love him. All I wanted this whole time was to hear him say it to me. Those 3 simple words. And he did, because he realized how much I needed it. Yet I feel in a way it cost him his freedom. And I feel awful. Love shouldn’t put people behind bars. Love should make people feel freer than they ever have.

So now all I can do is wait. Wait for him to reach out to me, when he can. Hoping he doesn’t hate me. I didn’t mean to mess this all up for him. I honestly want to be there for him, but unlike last time when he thought he was going back, and was asking me to help out with a couple things, this time was nothing. I reminded him again and again I would help him with whatever, but I feel like he was pushing me away. It’s like after that confession/admission of love the whole dynamic changed between us and he didn’t want me involved in anyway with anything related to his criminal life.

So now, all I can do is wait. And hope he’s okay.

Like I said, I messed up big time. Me and my neediness.


-The Fray/How To Save A Life-