Rum

I'm just sitting here, sipping on rum, thinking about life. Because that's the best time to do it, right? What am I doing? Do I need him? I don't know. Do I love him? Of course! But I feel like, because I wasted so much time on a relationship before, my life should be better. I should be happier. But I don't feel myself giving my all. I don't want to give my money, I don't want to give my freedom, I just want to be alone. Because that's how he makes me feel. And it's not his fault. But it's so annoying when people say "just leave. You don't need him" . Well yea, that's easy for someone to say when your rental history hasn't been shat on. Its easy to say when you have places to go. And now I sound like a horrible person. I pray. I pray a lot and I try to ask God to show me where to go. I try to be patient. Deep down I know that when I stop thinking so much, it'll all fall into place. I want that weird feeling again. I want butterflies. I want to feel like the world is waiting for me to experience it. But right now I feel trapped.

Still thinking, but happier.

This post may come across as selfish. But I'm happy.

I've been doing a lot of thinking. I got my big overtime check and wanted to save half of it. It was a good plan. Still is. But I was walking around the mall with a friend and I felt so out of place. I felt broke. I felt like I was punishing myself and I wasn't allowed to spend a dime or I had failed at life. The amount of guilt I feel after spending money is sickening. As I was looking around, I pictured my life. I work a full-time job, I have a car (that usually does what it's supposed to), and I have all of my bills paid (not including my outstanding debt). I'm (almost) 23 years old, I have no kids, and my only responsibility is to take care of myself. What am I being so hard on myself for? I deserve a new purse. I work hard, I deserve a pair of boots. Today was the first day I've ever spent money on myself and not felt guilty. Also, the fact that Cody has never ever bought me anything makes me feel better about treating myself.

I'm happier when I take care of myself.

Unsure

I spent five and a half years being someone I wasn't. I feel like I wasted my life away because I was afraid I'd end up alone. Of course now I know it wasn't him I needed, it was just having someone, anyone. But where does that leave me now? I've never been single. I've never just saved money for myself and spent money on me. I've never been able to do exactly what I want, when I want because I've always had to worry about upsetting a guy. True, it's great that I stopped drinking. I was unhealthy and unhappy. But from time to time I'd like to have a drink. I'd like to stay the night with friends and not worry about being home at a certain time. From ages 16 through 21, I was with one guy who was chemically screwed in the brain. We didn't get along for the most part. We were just all each other knew.

And now, here I am, laying in bed next to a cute, faithful, hard working guy, that I truly do love. But is it enough for me? I'm always unhappy. I don't get enough attention, kisses, hugs... I push him and push him and it's like he's doing things just so I'll be happy. Not because he wants to.

Is it selfish of me to want to take some time? I don't even know if that's what I want. I was just looking at old pictures and realizing how much of my time I spent dedicating myself to another person. I'm gonna be 23 this year. What do I have? Another relationship with more debt, more arguments, more stress? And what if things don't work out with him? A year from now, I'll be looking back, feeling like I've wasted even more time. All because I'm obsessed with love and romance, which both seem to be non-existant lately.

I should pray.

I finally have something to say.

Thursday night was a bad night. My cat, Oliver died. I knew he wasn't feeling well because he couldn't go potty, so before I went to work I gave him extra attention and water. I didn't have time to change his litter box. I never have time. When I get home, I'm lucky if I have enough energy to feed myself. That apartment is so small and the dog is always making messes, I'm just never up to it. I'm never really up for anything. But anyway... I worked a 12 hour shift, came home and noticed Oliver just laying by the wall. He would barely walk. He wanted to take a drink but he couldn't. Cody stood him up and he flopped over and fell. I tried pouring water in his mouth through a straw. He tried to lick it off his lips but it looked like it hurt him to swallow. We wrapped him up in a towel and laid him on a comfy pillow. We both just stared at him for hours, crying. He looked right at Cody and meowed a few times, then he had a short breath, with a tiny meow, and he was gone. I cried all night. Did not sleep at all. He looked like a helpless little baby. I thought of him as an annoyance most days. I would pet him from time to time and feed him, but I never let myself get too close to him. I'm not really a cat person. But after having Oliver for a year and the  watching him die, my heart is broken. He needed us to save him and there was nothing we could do. I kept telling myself he was gonna drink the water and make a full recovery. Then we'd have a chance at having a real relationship with him. He was a good cat. He liked to play with the puppy. He liked to ignore us all day, then randomly come up at night and try to snuggle. I miss him and I hope he knew I really did love him, even though I was horrible at showing it. RIP Oliver. Take care of Memaw, Billy Ray, and Cody's mom. And say hi to Kidd Kraddick too, please. <3