I come here sometimes to read back on my life; there are so many things I don't remember.
Like, I don't remember what Alex did on August 11th to make me post, "Thanks for ruining my day jerk."
I'm 90% sure that's the day we had a huge fight about JK Rowling which he turned into a fight about my inferior intellect and that was the last time we spoke to each out loud.
That weekend I went over to Gavin's house to watch Evil Dead and I decided that he was better as a friend and as a veritable stranger than Alex had ever been as a lover. Not a month later we had our first kiss and I moved in and Chesley posted a picture of us kissing on facebook and Alex saw it and dared call me all pissed off, "How could you?"
And I asked him, "Did I leave a jacket at your house last time I was there," knowing I hadn't, and he said, "What, this blue thing?" and realized who it was for before the words got all the way out of his mouth. I asked, "Did you cheat on me this summer," without a question in my tone and he snapped, "Would it matter? Would it change anything?"

And, God, it felt so liberating. I ripped him a new asshole for the very first time. I repeated every lie he'd ever said to me, all the way from, "I'm your boyfriend, I don't have to ask first," to "I think I over-estimated you as a person," to, "If I'd met Grace first I would have dated her instead," to every snide, "You're not smart enough to do that, if you lost 15 more pounds you'd be a knock out, no one else will put up with your attitude like I do," and I threw in every stupid thing he had ever done, every mistake I'd had to clean up for him, the way his parents had told him to his face that he had a lot to learn from me, and the way he'd used me as a person and as a sexual playground with or without my consent.
I will never forget his voice as he asked, "Will you at least believe that I cared about you?" in a voice that was just as small and meek as he had made me feel for the last year of my life.
And I told him no.

I have come so far since then. Two years ago I could not have accomplished all that I have today. I am leaps and bounds beyond some of my peers, and light-years behind many, but I don't take pleasure in measuring myself against others any more.
I own two cars, good cars that will run for at least another decade a piece. I owe nothing on them, I pay nothing but the insurance. I pay my own bills, including my cellphone. I virtually no debt, only the last of my student loan payments. I'm working on a savings account. I have awesome credit. I have my own apartment that I share with a wonderful fiance and two dogs and a cat. They stay up to date on their veterinary needs and eat a quality diet. I have paid vacation. I have health insurance through my employer. I have networking opportunities for careers I'm not even interested in.
I promised myself that Alex would be the last stupid decision I ever made. No more "because I'm lonely." No more "because it's the easiest option." No more "I didn't want to fight about it." Two years ago I listened to that piece of shit spew apologies and excuses at me through the phone and I realized that he had kept me compliant by making me feel small. I will never feel that way again.

I have been beaten and raped and threatened by various men since I was seven years old, and it has not been since these last two years, as a 20-21 year old woman that I have realized that it was a life I chose, not just how life is. I will never be a victim again. I will never let a man walk over me or look down on me.
God help the motherfucker that tries.

I am happier now than I have ever been before.

This is everything I ever wanted and so, so much more.

How do I do this?

Alex doesn't want to live with my again until we both graduate.
I'm just heartbroken. This is what I've been looking forward to since May. Now I feel like there's no point in moving to Hammond or transferring schools or doing anything, really, because it's not going to get me where I want to be (ie: a lease with Alex.)

But I equally don't want to stay in Galliano and work at Sonic for the rest of my life. And I don't really want to be anywhere else, either.

I just was looking forward to getting back into the groove of living with my boyfriend, of going to sleep with him every night and waking up with him every morning. I'm so emotionally attached to all of his little habits that I won't get to experience from a separate apartment. I still can't remember to turn the lights off before getting into bed. That's Alex's job. Am I supposed to live for the next three years with the lights always on?

I'm not even sure where all of this came from. Last week, we were talking about living with Rob together. Now we're not going to live together until after graduation? I sincerely believe that he's just trying to slowly get me used to being on my own again so he can break up with me. It's becoming increasingly obvious that he's not into our relationship anymore.

And I'm just so tired of being confused and hurt and crying all the time. I just want my boyfriend. It's been so gratifying that, over the course of our relationship, people have seen us get through such tough shit and come out smiling. And I'm just so sad about so many things and I feel like I'm letting everyone down and like I'm fucking this relationship up and like I'm losing the love of my life to a steady downwards spiral of depression and inadequacy. I can't even get through a day at sonic without fucking something up. Do you know how many IDIOTS work at that fucking place? I'm supposed to be at least semi-intelligent, how do you fuck a job like this up? Anyone can walk a fucking tray of food out to a car and collect money. Why am I such complete shit at it?

I just don't understand how life could be so swell in May, and so shitty in August. I don't understand how long nights with Grace and Alex and laughter became long nights sobbing into my pillow. Where did this come from and how can I make it go away?

Things Are Just Really Fucking Hard Right Now.

I think about my mom a lot.
She has early-onset Alzheimer's, you know? She's about to turn 48 and she doesn't remember texting me last week about her trip to Missouri, she has to call and tell me all about it two or three more times, because she's not sure what she's already said. And it's just so fucking sad.

My step-dad abuses her. For a long time, it was physical, but he stopped when we left for that week back in Sophmore year. Now it's just mental and emotional.

And I don't even know how to explain to anyone else how all-consuming it is. My mother can barely go grocery shopping. Grady hates going to Wal Mart, but he also doesn't like for my mom to go anywhere by herself, because he's convinced that she's had some sort of boyfriend for the last decade (who apparently has followed her from Mississippi to Texas, even though she's "fat and ugly and nobody wants her but him.") So she has to, like, sprint through wal mart to find what she needs, get to check out, and get back home as quickly as possible, otherwise she "obviously" stopped along the way to have sex with her boyfriend.

My step-father is also a drunk, and is addicted to painkillers, which he is prescribed for his terrible shoulder and his knee problem.

And I just remember being on the Inside and seeing the dynamic between the two of them and understanding and finding it a little weird but otherwise okay. Now, I just don't get it. From the Outside, it just seems so twisted.

And, again, my mom has Alzheimer's. These are her last few years to make memories, you know? Really: this next decade will be the last one that she remembers. After this, it's all downhill. It's so sad to me that she's spending them with this man that doesn't make her happy and has never loved her.

Grady has stolen from my mother the best years of her life. They cannot be replaced.

I think that, from growing up watching all of this unfold, I have a lot of pent of anger and aggression towards men, and I know that I take that out on Alex a lot more than he deserves. But sometimes I genuinely see bits of my stepfather in him, and it scares me. I don't want to be like my mother. I don't want to wake up in thirty years and realize that it's too late to find anyone else, so I might as well hang out to the piece of shit I managed to snag. It's probably the most terrifying prospect of my life.

Mostly, I just wish that I still lived with Alex. Let's face it; my boyfriend is an asshole. It's a fact, not an insult. When I was living with him, he was around to hug and kiss me after hurting my feelings, and so there was no such thing as going to bed angry. But being a long distance asshole doesn't work the same way. I've spent so much of this summer just crying because of the hurtful things Alex has said to me. And it's not like he's acting any differently, he's just not here to see how it affects me. Normally, he can see the hurt happen. That's just not possible through a phone. And I hate to fight with him, but I'm also just so sick of crying.

I'm worried about furthering my relationship with Alex anymore, because I'm scared that if we move back in together, it'll complicate things with my mom. I sincerely believe that my mother will be living with me full-time before I'm through with college. Grady just isn't the nurturing type, and she's going to need more and more care as the years go by. So I'm trying to anticipate the bumps in the road before they get here, I guess? I just can't afford to send her to a nursing home, but I also don't think that Alex would be willing to live with his disabled maybe-future-mother-in-law. Besides how awkward it would be to be in a relationship under my mother's watchful eye, it just is weird to think about doing normal things like playing Zelda or cuddling or drinking or anything with Alex while my mom watches.

Maybe I'm just thinking things too far in advance?

I love you, blogville.

Thanks for ruining a good day.

I appreciate it.

Jerk.

Damn.

So close to twenty-four hours without food.

It would have been the first time in two years.

I know that eating is the right thing to do, but it's hard.

My mom's side of the family is filled with short, fat women, and everyone keeps jokingly remarking that I'm becoming one of them. It's all in good fun, but it really hurts. Even at the height of my eating disorder, fifteen pounds under weight, I wanted to lose more. No I'm ten pound OVERweight, and every day is a struggle to be okay with that.

And I just wish that my family would realize that there is a time for jokes, and that some are just not appropriate.