We were farmers.

I went home to cheat. I’m sure I told you all this before. But it’s been coming on my mind a lot more lately. Like, would I have actually done it? How would everything had turned out? I felt that was a corner post in my life. A clear a direct choosing of the path. It left ripples and only now can I see them. Every bump reminds me of where the stone dropped. How would it have changed? Furthermore, would I have been happier? I know for sure I would be back in north Carolina, probably living with my parents.
But then I return to boyfriend. I wonder sometimes looking at him what we really have in common. But then I think that’s not even it. It’s more of our moral grounds. We carry ourselves the same. My rights is his rights and our wrongs together. I don’t it’s necessary that we share the same hobbies. If we were richer we would. But right now we own what we own and it works. For now. I know he loves me. I also know he hates me too.

I am bitter.

Yes bitter. Social media has poisoned my well. It’s constantly showing me what everyone has. That I want. It’s making me bitter. Lord knows sometimes I am not trying. Sometimes I bath in my envy. Soaking it in. I want the ring on my finger. It’s been almost two years I have been with boyfriend. Two fucking years. I know people that meet and are married in two months. They are fucking happy. They are fucking pregnant and just glory fucking happy. Bitchs I know from high school are buying their third fucking house and I’m worried about fucking rent. Who let these fuckers out in the world. Get the fuck out of my little patch of sunshine. I especially hate seeing the fake ass people going on worldly vacations and to fucking Disney world. Um  hello debra, I’ve never been. Maybe on your NEXT FUCKING VISIT YOU CAN JUST SEND ME. and don’t get me started on

My family.

It’s actually a shameful experience with them. My uncle believes he should be the next president bush, and his daughters, my younger bitch ass cousins, all have their heads in the Pringle jar. Did I mention the youngest is pregnant? The little whore got pregnant in high school. Ironic coming from these little royal catholic assholes.
Everything changed after my grand parents died. We used to be a happier family. My mother was the oldest. She mourns the most. She’s been cheated again and again by her siblings. She hurts the most because she raised them all and every single one of them has turned away from her. She hurts the most because she knew their parents the longest. She grew up with them. She learned with them. But her six siblings are just weak low bastards. And I mean that with kindness.
I’ve recently spoken out again them, and well. All I have to say is, if my opinion didn’t better before then why would it now? So seriously, go fuck yourself.

20 DAYS
20 more days till our roommates leave. I want to say we kicked them out but we had to be very graceful about it. They are the worst. But I can’t even say that. They are just disgusting humans. One keeps left over food in his room for weeks, the other leaves all the lights on and makes the biggest mess. I just wish we never met them. So yeah I can’t wait. However I’m a nervous. This is the first time the boy and I will be flying solo. We had our own place back home but his cousin was kinda staying with us too so this is legit. I think we got this. I just got to keep up my end and stay with this job. I think it’s about to get easier. But at least I have three weeks to get my shit together and my stores running.

God now I’m tired. Lord knows I’m trying.

Work husband?
Yes let’s talk about him. Oh boy I am really in trouble now. So at one of my stores there’s this god that works in the back in receiving. He’s always looking so fresh. And he looks a lot like boyfriend. He is so nice to me, and it’s very possible he is equally nice to everyone else. But I just love his smile. I absolutely have no trouble finding something that has box to be broken down. He has made a point to talk to me every time I’m there. And yes it’s possible he is equally as talkative to everyone else. All I am seeing is a positive judge of character. So I could definitely love getting paid to restock shelves and make many trips to the receiving bay, but not too many. I can’t make it look like some hoe shit. He can be my work husband.

Petty.

And I know it. 

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About moderndaigoddess

out on my own, these are my words about how crazy life can get
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