I wasn't taught to love, but I'm slowly learning how. It started with close friends in eighth grade and high school, and grew - powerfully - with the news of my son (once I quit freaking out and the nesting hormones kicked in.) I grew up in homes with no men, and then had exclusively male - but platonic - roommates. The only man I've lived with non-platonically was my ex-husband, Ronnie the Ass (not nearly as cool as Angie the Anti-Theist.) So, I'll admit I'm a bit nervous about what's coming next for me.
Little Man and I are moving out of Evictionville and renting a house with Boyfriend Dave. Part of it is the many loveletters from my landlady*, and part of it is the hour he drives each time he comes to see me or takes me to the many doctors visits I have now that I've finally been approved for Medicaid.**
But mostly, I'm ready to stop living a cloistered life of fear between the four walls of my two-room apartment. I'm ready to have a family, just not the one I was born into (or later married into.) I'm ready to try this crazy little thing called love.
Wish me luck?
* The love letters are written in ALL CAPS, bold, and underlined, with excessive exclamation mark usage!!!!!! It is the very essence of, "I hate you - don't leave me!" communication, with unfulfilled threats of either currently or eventually filing eviction proceedings against me - and half my neighbors. It just stops being personally embarassing once the entire complex has given up on paying the full rent on time each month.
** I've been trying to get insurance for 9 months. Then I wrote all my congresspeople with a (true) sob story and plea for universal health coverage. Now I'm magically approved. Works better than prayer!
p.s. I love my readers, too. You guys don't know how much your comments and emails do to keep my spirits up and how much you help me learn to trust myself and my own insights. Thanks a lot. <*/sappiness>