MIA

I know I’ve been MIA, but here’s the thing, I don’t really have anything to report.

But, maybe that’s the thing, I should be reporting. Maybe that’s the point.

Boyfriend and I are spending almost every day and night together. (Well, if the day is spent together, then so is the night.) I’m in serious like. First healthy, mature adult relationship I’ve ever been in. Sad that it didn’t happen until I was 35, but at the same time, 35 is better than 36, or never at all.

He and I are able to share, express, say, do, and just be. It’s wonderful. Technically the nine months of intense therapy I received was free. Technically that “free” therapy cost me 50 grand.

It was worth every penny. Without it I wouldn’t be where I am today. I am happy. I am calm. My emotions and rational, my thought process is rational, mature, and it speaks softly.

Much better than screaming and racing thoughts. Much better.

We are comfortable.

It’s wonderful.

I sleep better at his house than in my own.

On the job front: I am (will soon be) working three part time jobs. Things are coming up, but things are also falling through.

I am broke. Broke. I have $24 to last me the next two weeks. Boyfriend lives 25 miles away. So, that money will go into my gas tank. Not because I feel all my money should be going towards gas, but because after bills, gas it my only luxury.

(And the only reason I have $24 is because I made $16.85 from my parents by taking back cans and bottles. Thank god my family drinks a lot.)

So, even though I am poor, have no full-time job prospects, am living at home without the prospect of moving out anytime soon; I am happier and more comfortable and content than I have been in years….years. Probably a decade. And it’s wonderful.

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