Written Whispers

Wow. In less than six months I’m going to be married. I will be sharing the last name of the man I love and sharing my the rest of my life with him. His family will be my family as mine will be his.

It’s all starting to settle in slowly but steadily. Most of the time I’m still in a state of shock that someone could love me enough to want to have to put up with me for years upon years. Yes, I know I’m loved it’s just that I’m not quite used to it really. Now and then though, more now than then it seems like being hit in the head with a ton of bricks and it’s so obvious. ‘Oh my goodness! I’m getting married!’

I think much of the time the reason I’m having so much trouble ‘realizing’ it is because in part I really am still a child, abet an extremely mature one but a child none the less. I’m still in the process of adjusting to being legally an adult. I mean, I never was a kid when I was a kid. I still worked my bum off and never asked permission for anything but now it’s much more official and it’s almost hard to believe that in one if not another sense I am grown up. I’m not done growing, no, I’ll never be that but one stage of my life is definitely over.

A new stage is beginning and I still haven’t gotten used to this one is all. I suppose that’s what I’ve been trying to say for a paragraph and a half but sometimes I just need to babble to sort through my thoughts. Anyways, I’m not getting cold feet about this. That’s not what I’m saying at all, I’m just saying sometimes it’s hard to believe this is all real. On top of it all I’m not used to so much good  happening at once.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining, never ever. I’m just… now and then I’ll be laughing and having a great time and suddenly I’ll notice how much my cheeks hurt from smiling and I can’t stop smiling because I’m genuinely happy. I’m used to people asking me why I’m sad even when I’m happy because I just have that look to my face but it’s like I’m happy enough for it to show on the outside now. These feelings and responses are such a novelty to me but I love it. :) Without them I’d be worried, like I often am, that my feelings aren’t as strong as they should be.

About a month ago there was an incident. I don’t think I mentioned it to hardly anyone and I’d be surprised if I mentioned it on the blog here. If I did I forgot.

I was in Wal-Mart and called my families house, something I do rarely now for reasons I don’t have the heart to mention. My adoptive father, let’s call him J, picked up. Usually, because he’s rather mad about the situation with my Hunny and I, he’ll just hand off the phone without another word. This time though I’m guessing no one was home to keep him in check because for the next over an hour he tried to convince me in one too many ways to leave my Hunny.

He kept telling me to think. Pointing out that there’s a 90% chance that he’ll die before I will, he knows this is playing on my fears but what I’m guessing he doesn’t know is that I had to acknowledge this early in our relationship when medical problems arose.

I tried to tell J that I loved my Hunny and he scoffed, said a couple of things I shan’t repeat, so on and so forth. I, at the time, am working those little gears and cranks in my head as to how I can smooth the situation over and all I can do is go with the truth. Not only for J but for myself. I tell him, no. I suppose I really don’t know what love it. I’m too young and haven’t lived long enough but I know that I feel loved and that I’m happy and in the end isn’t that what matters?

He continues with more ill based insults, honestly, it would be one thing if he’d met my Hunny and had a conversation with him but he hasn’t and won’t in a non violent manner. It would be different in the fact that I’d feel better able to tolerate them but since he has nothing to base them on I feel my ire raise and struggle to keep it in check because I know under no circumstances will it help me. It would make everything so much worse and gods forbid should I even consider hanging up the phone.

He tried the spiritual approach, among others, knowing that above all else the matters of the spirit are very important to me (spirit not religion) but I found no logic in his logic. Two separate minds, what can I say? *mental shrug* When that didn’t work he told me I would grow old for him [My Hunny], that I need someone I can grow old with.

But see this is what gets me (yeah I know you should never start a sentence with ‘but’) as far as age goes. If I were to be with a gentleman of my own age- I would be completely and utterly unhappy unless he had lived a life such as mine in which case we’d be overly caught up in each other’s baggage. I can’t stand guys my age, hell, I generally can’t stand friends my age except in special circumstances. Mentally speaking I know I’m a couple years behind my Hunny, he has already taught me so much along the lines of patience and self discipline and that’s alright if I’m not quite on his level but I could not stand being with someone who hasn’t lived yet.

I don’t know if this makes sense to anyone but it’s true. Me being with someone this way who is physically my own age would be like being with a child. My Hunny is a deep thinker, he thinks about things going on in the world and what’s going on around him. He understands responsibility and has worked hard since the day we got together to make a life for the two of us. He’s making sure I get through school and get all the many and various types of medical attention I need. He’s buying the home we live in and finishing school himself in hopes of getting a better job to take care of us. Teenagers don’t think that way.

To top everything off I’m going to be twenty this year. I was used to making my own choice, or mistakes as some see them, when I was 14. I’m pretty sure that hasn’t changed and I’m now in even more of a position to do so. So what if it’s a mistake? I’m not going to learn anything if I don’t make it.

Then he, J, tried to explain how I am. He tried to tell me when I get out of bad situations like out of foster care or away from my mother I tend to find someone to cling to right away and that’s what I’m doing. Now, I didn’t have much of an argument to this at the time but thinking about it moments later I did.

See, when I left my mother and started living with my mom, J’s wife, I clung to her. I was with her all the time, I idolized her, and took in everything she said learning from much of it. When I left foster care to live with my best friend I clung to her mom in the exact same manner. I never had fatherly figures in my entire life, not ones that I call dad or see quite so much as a parent as my adoptive moms. In fact, I fear men. They make me scarred be they strangers and friends, it doesn’t really matter how long I’ve known them. My Hunny is the first man I have not felt an inkling of fear towards and while this is a fact it doesn’t mean I cling to him like that. The one thing all the people I’ve clung to have in common is that they are all motherly figures full of wisdom, advice, and a fierce penchant to protect the unprotected.

Anyways, so the phone call ended and I was terribly upset that he felt the need to try so hard to break us up and I was a little unnerved by some threats as well as the way he went about trying to convince me at some points but one good thing did come out of this. I finally realized how much I truly do love my Hunny.

J had tried so hard to tell me I don’t know what love is and that I should leave him but in the end- he showed me how much I love him and now I’m more certain than ever that I could never leave him. People may not like our relationship, there are a lot of things against the two of us, and I know someday he will die and that can’t be helped but all of that just shows me, myself, how much my heart can be wrenched. I stood up to my adoptive father, something very difficult for me, and in the end I didn’t cry which I normally would have. This wh
ole thing has just given me a new sense of strength.

Anyways, this is a really long post. Don’t worry, you don’t have to comment on this one. It’s just a rant.

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