I punched the fridge. it's ok - it's not a rental, but our fridge in the rental. So I didn't destroy anything that could cost me money. So that's good. On the negative side, I definitely have no insurance and a swollen, numb hand. That part is less awesome.
I show my appliances tough love.
What does loyalty mean to you, my reader? What about love? How's that one go? 'Cuz, let me tell you, neither of those two things is going too swell for me right now.
I don't want to sound emo, or like I'm complaining. I mean, I kind of am both, but, quite honestly, I'm just done with it right now. I'm too jaded to spend too long caring right now. I'm too broken to believe and hope today.
I'm pretty pragmatic about love. I don't expect a fairy tale. I don't expect a dozen roses and a white knight and a rescue. I can rescue myself. I expect companionship and shared interests and the ability to grow with someone. I don't expect that we will always grow in the same patterns or ways, just that we will encourage and support the growth of each other. I expect someone that I can laugh with, and be stupid around. I expect someone who has my back. I expect someone to be secure enough about themselves and in themselves to let me be me and I'll return the favor. I expect a partner.
Maybe I am asking too much.
I feel like I am the flaw somehow here. Like there is something missing in me that doesn't inspire these things. I don't know.
Tonight I'll do schoolwork and tuck my baby in bed and cry and consider drinking and then think better of it. I'll shower off the makeup and grime of the day, and I'll go to bed, and I'll try to silence the rhetoric in my head. And maybe tomorrow this will all make sense and I won't feel so incredibly alone and beaten down.
I'll get through another day. And eventually I'll make sense.
