"No longer knowing the difference between making love and...fucking." -Sage Francis I've never been so conflicted about love in my entire life. I have figured out though what my course of action should be. I love the boy dearly, but feel that I am doing more harm to myself and inadvertently, him, by being with him. He's too young and inexperienced. He hasn't taken his own steps forward out of the shade and into the blinding sun of the world yet, as I have. I sort of realize that this mutual robbery will just fester if I try to continue to keep any of this up, because essentially, I'd end up carrying him, and he would see no need to grow, see the need to find himself, because he'd have me. Sewing on his buttons, cooking him meat and potatoes, reading (but never criticizing..."you're being sort of a snot.") his work, and of course, that other stuff that I dare not mention. He needs to grow, and I need him to grow. There you have it. Absolutely no elaboration into the weekend, but rather, what I learned from it. Vaguely.

This might be a mistake later, but I think I'll set him free next time I see him. Personally, I think he's probably going to take it rather well, because it's not as if he is super affectionate towards me anyways. Physically, sure, but that's only half a conquest of the heart. I sort of got the feeling this weekend that he just "puts up" with me sometimes, and my family, for the sake of a change from the settlement. I hope to god that I'm wrong- and fuck, since it was a gut feeling, it probably was wrong. My guts are the most inaccurate things- more inaccurate then a body fat index chart. It's funny to say because I advised someone not too long ago to go with their gut feelings, but I'm under the impression that everyone elses work. Other people win the lottery with theirs, and I- I get the feeling that this short cut is 'going to be awesome' and end up half submerged in a mudhole.

Seriously, I did have a salvageabley good weekend in the long run. Albeit there were mistakes, there were also giggles, cuddling, and someone to sleep next to, someone new to smile at, parents to understand me, and some change in conversation. It could have been worse.

One more thing: I want to take a poll.

So, you made this craft for your mother, to give to her friend who is dying of cancer, and you accidently leave it at home (roughly twenty minutes away) on the night you are to bring it to your mom to give to her poor sick friend. You phone a certain relative you live with, and they bitch and whine for about five minutes and then agree to bring it to you, in exchange for paying for the gas it took to get out there. You agree. Your relative drops off the craft promptly, but as you are backing slowly away from the car and mention to them to make a note of the cost of gas on the fridge, your relative does this:

"Oh. I've changed my mind. I want you to do your chores + my chores, for the next three weeks instead."

~A capillary bursts in my brain, and I feel like I want to projectile hemmorage all over your beige leather interior of your fucking ugly Chevy Malibu~

"But, I have exams. Finals. Big ones you know? They're coming up right away here, so..."

"Well, I'm going to Vancouver for two days, so I think you should do my chores while I'm gone."

You goddamn daughter of Satan. Purge thysself from that human body oh foul beast of the Devil! Or kill yourself, it's God's Will.

So, what do you think? Am I overreacting when I think my aunt is Satan's mistress incarnate, or what? I am not doing three weeks of her fucking chores for five bucks worth of gas money. Now, if only I could tell her that.
  ¶ 12:37 AM