Tag: journals

3. Building for a future I wasn’t supposed to have

“They say that love is forever
Your forever is all that I need
Please stay as long as you need
Can’t promise that things won’t be broken
But I swear that I will never leave
Please stay forever with me”

~Sleeping With Sirens “If I’m James Dean, Then You’re Audrey Hepburn”

Courtesy of Rise Records

I met the man who would become the father of my future children in Japan. He had switched assignment with a girl in my class in tech school, back at Lackland AFB. He had actually been dating one of the girls in my class, but was further along in his training. He was toting around an acoustic guitar and walking by the dorms when I was headed home from work. He worked at the dining facility and I worked at the gym. Clearly, we were doing big things for our country. I’d stop by and chat for a little bit.

I had gone through a recent break up due to cheating on my boyfriend because he gave me permission. My boyfriend was totally gay, but we were best friends. He gave me a free pass, because he wouldn’t have sex with me, and I took it. Apparently, he didn’t think I’d do it, and then was mad when I did it. He wasn’t even attracted to me. That’s gotta be one of the weirdest relationships I’ve ever had.

So my first steps into adulthood and I was learning that relationships were more complicated than I could have ever anticipated. Like, how am I finding these weird ass relationships? I had a traditional thought of relationships. You date, meet “The One”, get married and have kids, then live happily ever after. A naive thought, I’d discover over the years.

But this guy, he was different. He wasn’t married, wasn’t gay, but was lonely. We hung out a couple times, and our hangouts were becoming more frequent. I knew he wanted to date me, but I wasn’t ready for it. We started having casual sex. He was the absolute sweetest. He opened doors for me, had a little country boy accent. He was something I never would have expected to be remotely interested in. I wanted a rock star. A guy with black hair, dark eyes, tattoos, and eyeliner. No joke. I pretty much fell in love with opposite.

Like all relationships, this one did not come without its struggles. The first struggle being the fact that I had to get my head out of my ass and realize that someone amazing wanted to be a part of my life. So I did. December 2011, we started dating. I fell in love fast. Within a week of dating, I knew that I was going to marry him. Don’t ask me how or why, I just looked at him in the car and felt it. I was like “Oh shit.” And I didn’t necessarily want to marry him at that point, but something telling me inside said I was.

Everybody’s got a dark side, or some sort of downside. We’re only human. We’re bound to make mistakes and keep making them. Hell, if I don’t make a mistake at least once a day, it doesn’t feel like an actual day. If I’m not fucking things up on the daily, something’s seriously wrong.

With this particular one, he was hung up on his ex who was the girl that used to be in my class. She was back in the states. Why are they always hung up on their exes? I mean, let’s talk about this. Does any man actually move on from someone they loved? Or do they secretly pine away for the ex before. Over the years, I have completely moved on from exes. I’ve learned to completely detach myself from past relationships. These men could stand to learn a few things.

THERE IS NOTHING WORSE THAN LETTING AN EX INTO YOUR CURRENT RELATIONSHIP.

Like for fucking real. Honestly, it’s worse than letting a new person into your relationship. I literally would rather be cheated on with a new bitch I’d never heard of, than someone I know full-well who they are and how you felt about them. We girls always have that comparative insecurity. We compare until we’re blue in the face.

SO IF YOU WANT A FUNCTIONAL RELATIONSHIP, MAKE SURE YOUR MAN KNOW TO KEEP HIS STUPID FUCKING EX AND HER CUNT FACE OUT OF THE RELATIONSHIP NOW.

And this, my friends, is where crazy starts.

Advertisements

2. Inexperience leads to experiences, and not always good.

My first real boyfriend in tech school for the military started receiving indications that I was a little baby-crazy. Now, he was nowhere in the position to be knocking my baby wanting tendencies, solely on the face he was married. That’s right, married. Judge me.

Judge me all you want. Because to you, I’m just some bitch you met on the internet. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. That’s the whole point of this. But yes, my boyfriend was married. But listen, in my defense, his wife knew. Yes, now this took a different turn. I had met him out a field while we were doing PT. I was injured and so was he, so we were standing on the edge of the field. Well, he was. I’m a lazy-ass motherfucker, so my broken-ass was sitting. In a pile of red ants, I’d soon discover. He was a short mexican boy, with a really fun attitude, and some charm. He was ridiculously smart. Like, the kind of smart you can’t stand. There was shit he talked about that so so scientifically intricate, I’d zone out while he talked because it was just too much for my brain. It was embarrassing really.

I don’t remember how it all started, but he said something about his wife coming to visit. Then he mentioned the idea of a threesome. Apparently, that’s normal now. I did not know this then. I had sheepishly told him I was a virgin. And I was for the most part. I’d experimented with girls when I was younger, but I’d never had a dick in me. Fairly impressive for an 18 year old girl.

I once messed around with my high school teacher when I was 17, and I got caught. Worst high school graduation ever. That teacher was married too. Apparently, I attracted married men. And then with it. Because I’m a moron. For someone who was a virgin, I was kinda turning into a big hoe. That should have been my first clue.

But anyway, he suggested I come out with them one evening and see what sex is like. There was no pressure for me, just to simply observe. Let me tell you, for a virgin who’d never actually held a man’s dick in her life, watching two people you didn’t really know have sex was one of the weirdest experience I had until that point.

I felt intrusive, as if I was watching something I wasn’t allowed to see. Like, why was I there? I was a little uncomfortable, and a lot shy when they pulled me over to the bed. As mentioned before, I had a little experience with girls, so when they invited me to do stuff to her, I was like, okay, I can do this. It was a little more comfortable. I don’t think I did anything with him, although I can’t remember. But I wanted my virginity in tact.

I talked to some of my girl friends about losing my virginity. It was becoming something I just wanted to move past. I had been a religious girl in high school, saving myself for Jesus, and what not. Not that if you’re doing so, it’s wrong. Whatever floats your motherfucking boat. It’s your body. Fuck whoever you want, if you want. But premarital sex was taboo, where I learned about it from. You only want to have sex with your spouse, because sex is something God blessed between a husband and a wife. I was told that if you had sex with someone other than your husband, it meant that you were creating soul ties with another, and it would tear you apart. Also, I was told it hurt a lot. Didn’t make it sound very appealing to be honest. So, I had been flat-out scared to lose it. It wasn’t that I didn’t have offers, just the idea of being naked with someone freaked me the fuck out.

So I decided, well fuck it. Let’s get it over with. And I did. It wasn’t a horrible experience, at least not like some of the nightmares I’ve heard. I lost it in a fancy hotel room. I can’t even be certain I had an orgasm at that point. I don’t think I could tell, so I’m assuming not. It wasn’t bad, but I was more disappointed that I didn’t feel anything different. I got done, and I was like, really? This is what everyone was worried about? I didn’t feel in love, nor was I attached. I expected it to be a little more exciting. This is what they call “becoming a woman?” Very anti-climactic, if I do say so myself.

 

1.Where crazy comes from

1.Where crazy comes from

Nobody starts out crazy. We’re not born out of the vag or tummy being like, “I think I want to be a psycho when I get older. I want to hate everyone around me, not trust anyone, and live in a world full of shit.” At least I didn’t. And maybe I don’t “necessarily” hate “everyone”, but shit, in this world, I’m telling you, there’s a lot of serious dislike.

And I’m not crazy. At least, I’ve never been diagnosed as such. Of course, I’ve never gone to a doctor to test that theory. So we’re going to call me “not crazy.” But the problem is, I feel crazy. I feel it every day. I overthink waaaay too much, panic over the most ridiculous things, worry about everything, and am constantly stressed. But being an adult is being stressed. I know this. It’s not all rainbows, unicorns, and fluffy kittens out here in the adult world. We’re all struggling to make ends meet, pay our bills, work our worthless and underpaid jobs, just trying to make it through one day at a time.

But see, it wasn’t always like this for me. I had a pretty good life, as far as typical lives go. When I was 18, I was stationed in Japan. In 2011, I got out of the military on pregnancy. My boyfriend was in the military as well and we got pregnant. Okay, well I got pregnant.

I know what you’re thinking. Dumb ass teenager went and became a statistic. Can’t use a fucking condom. Irresponsible. And maybe that is the case. Yes, I was young. Did I bite off more than I could chew? Probably. Who doesn’t at some point in their lives? But, I became pregnant on purpose. And it wasn’t to trap my boyfriend. He was aware of it. This was no accident. This was a conscious decision made by two baby adults. You see, when I was 17, my sister had a beautiful baby boy that lived with me and my parents. I spent the first year of my nephew’s life with him. I had not had much experience with babies beforehand. But shortly after my sister brought him home, I fell in love.

Have you ever experienced something in your life and you think to yourself, “This is what I am meant to do.” ? For me, that was being a mom. I can remember the exact moment I wanted to be a mother. My nephew was maybe a week or two and I was in a recliner, with my nephew laying on my chest. No one else was around. I was softly patting his back as his squishy little face nestled into my chest. I was singing quietly to him. I believe the first song I sang to him was called “With Eyes Wide Shut,” by blessthefall. I was an alternative girl, so my music tastes are a little strange to some, especially when looking at me.

I watched his little eyes flutter open and closed, trying to fight sleep, but not making a sound. They finally closed and he lay there, tiny breaths escaping his chest. He look so tranquil, and my heart melted. Even though we had just met and he’d only been in this world for a couple of weeks, I felt so connected to him, and absolutely fell in love. “I want this. I want to be a mom. I want to be one right now.”

Mature seventeen year old I was, I deperately wanted a baby. From that point, I fell in love with babies everywhere. You know those movies like Baby Mama and How To Be Single when these women who want babies start hallucinating babies everywhere? Basically, that was me. Now, I wasn’t seeing full-blown hallucinations (Thank God), but there was an ache inside, knowing desperately I wanted one of my own.