Letters to my best friend...

#venting it's bullshit that D, A and R can't get over their own egos to be present for someone who's going under the knife and tolerate someone they don't like who is also a friend to the person under the knife. It's just BS.. O would be civil to them, if they'd just get over themselves... O is no saint, he's said and done some pretty scrappy shit. But at least he's willing to try to make amends. D (far as I've seen) can make no such statements. "I'll talk to him, if that's what you want Mom, but the first time he says something i don't like, it's over.." I've watched him, apparently, spending money sent to him by O for their shared phone bill at Disneyland instead of on the bill as agreed. Truth, idk, I know D has passes, but it sure seemed suspicious! I know the money was sent, as it was given to me to send to D, and i did so. And within days D was off to Disney with family in tow (or alone idk) and spending money he/s...

Retrospective: Time after time he asks me what I want of him.  Answer: I want stability. I don't care about the money, all the stuff is nice; but I want a bit of stability. And I'm not talking emotionally, I'm talking about financially. It doesn't have to be on a level I've grown used to with E, it just HAS to BE. And sobriety couldn't hurt either,  I'm not meaning dry, I'm meaning a light social drink. Nothing to bring forward the rabid Wolf he harbors, but a drink to ease the pain in his back, or whatever, is not evil. I want to be able to be there to ease his nightmares at night, to reduce his stress in the daylight; to show him what 'love' feels like, like he should have had this whole time. But how do I tell him? I really want to go to him; but I'm not sure he's ready; not the way I need him to be.

You tell me the hope is going out in my gaze, but I feel it's the opposite. I feel as though the conflict is slowly resolving. I don't want to let my parents down, my father had faith that I would make the right choice when I was conflicted between Lucian and E, but I wasn't. I didn't want Lucian, not long term; he was a means of escape. My parents sent me away for a month so I could ‘get my head on straight’, and they were right then. My father told my husband that I would go back to him, and in the end, I did. I almost left to be with Ryan because I was feeling neglected and J and I were constantly fighting over finances. Ryan only wanted the next forbidden thing, and I saw it then, but it was what I thought I wanted. He was the forbidden fruit with grand promises of peace, and I wanted it. He handed me the leash about his throat, and bowed to me as his master, and I was tempted. He was a flirt, with everything that had boobs. So forgive me, please, if I have reservat...

God's, all I want to do when I see you sleeping is curl up next to you, beside you, behind you - so you can feel safe, knowing someone has your back. I feel like it's not what I should do, because what would others think if they found us.

Today we went to the dr for your lower back, and by the time we left you had an MRI of your entire spine on the docket. But getting to this point was painful. I know you're hurting, ene Otsoa; I see it in the corners of your eyes. I expect another fight today, as I encourage you to take care of yourself. You tell us you're not used to having people around that care, grown used to ignoring the things that trouble you. Training from your sire, and the military both makes you able to compartmentalize the pain, I get it. But, Ene Otsoa, you shouldn't have to!!!

Today, you pushed my patience and compassion. Today you challenged me to care, as though I haven't been already. I know you haven't read this, because if you had you likely would be treating me differently, and perhaps yourself as well. So weeks back you slammed your foot against a car battery on the back deck, and since then you've been commenting about your toe hurting. Today you accused us of not caring when all I've been doing is carefully watching as you stumble across the house, or store, or from one errand to the next. Listening to you insist that you're built differently, trained differently, that you can handle the pain. Watching as you wince each time you flex, or stumble because you lose your balance. Suggesting we take you to have it looked at, over and over and get laughed down. How is that NOT caring? I don't harass you about visiting, because I know you don't like hospitals - but I know you should go. If your toe isn't healing right, as it...

For days I've been silent, enjoying your company, enjoying the company of those around me. Reveling in the reconnection with precious old friends. And then last night broke overhead like a thundercloud. I pushed perhaps a little too hard, and your snapped back at me. The same tirade of having been alone too long, and being fine with being alone. So, in anger, though I knew you didn't mean it, I walked away. Not because I was done, but because all I wanted to do was grab a fist full of those bleached curls and shut you up. But there were eyes to witness, so I walked away instead. Too frustrated to say anything. I won't give up, I've made that commitment You're concerned that you crossed boundaries, but I pushed them, too. I got under your skin, and got a rise out of you.  But it does not change what I said. I choose to stand by your side, to help you get your life back.