Dante was a very important part of my life. He moved in with me a few days before Halloween. He was just a few weeks old at the time, a stray who turned up on our doorstep and decided to adopt me and Kenny. It was love at first sight. He was cuddly and intelligent. He fit right in with us.

Kenny really took to him. Kenny, who’d been used to dogs and swore he’d never love a cat, was wrapped around Dante’s fuzzy little paw in days. He bought him amazing toys and coddled him even more than I did. The three of us shared a bed. For a little while, we were a family.

When Kenny and I lost the trailer we were living in and were forced to relocate, we had to give up our cat. My grandpa Hunt took him in. I knew he’d have a good home.

I called Grandpa today and he told me that Dante, who had been a perfectly healthy kitten when he’d moved in with him, had died of a hookworm infection. This was likely caused by the jerkoff who lives with my grandpa forcing Dante outdoors on a much-too-regular basis.

I left my cat behind firmly believing that I’d see him again. I know Grandpa did the best he could- he spent over $400 at the vet trying to get him well again. I’m crushed mostly because I didn’t get to say goodbye. I feel horribly guilty too- like the worst of pet parents. Most of all, I’m just sad that I won’t get to snuggle him again.

My poor baby.

Suffice it to say, a lot has changed. I’m pretty sure my whole readership knows that Kenny and I have been married since the end of December. It’s going well.

We moved to Stevensville, MI last week. It’s so different from Oklahoma City that I couldn’t begin to describe it.
At least we finally have a car. We’re living in Kenny’s grandma’s basement.

Still head over heels in love with Kenny. He is blissfully happy here so I guess I can tolerate it.

It’s not that we aren’t happy or crazy about each other. Both are true. We just felt that we’d rushed into that level of commitment way too soon. Actually, Kenny moved here to be with me. It helps that he has a totally decent job and he really likes it here. While I get homesick at times and miss places like Hot Topic and Starbucks, he’s totally worth it.

Kenny works at American Foundry on the mold line. It’s dirty, rough, and dangerous but he enjoys it. The pay is fair and he gets pretty good benefits. I’m back at KMart. I’m not sure what my position is there – I thought I got hired for shoes but I’ve been working as a cashier quite a bit lately. Oh well. It’s a job.

I guess I can sort of see it from their point of view. I joined that program and essentially disappeared from their lives (or came close). Now here I am with a fiance that they’ve never met. As bad as my relationships in the past 10 years have been, I suppose they might have grounds for worry.

I never in a million years thought I’d be getting engaged to a guy less than 2 months after meeting him. I’m incredibly relationship-shy. I honestly thought that after Eric I’d need a very long time to recuperate, and that no man would ever compare to him. So I can see why they’d wonder what this was all about.

What’s hard to explain is that I have learned to trust my instinct. It has never been wrong before.  My instinct says that Kenny is The One. And those who have see us together understand what we have. I guess it’s just a matter of letting them meet him so that they can be assured that he’s genuinely nice and that we’re amazing together.

For those of you who don’t:

1. I have been absent so long because I was in a ‘life recovery/discipleship program’. Bah. That place (not naming names, it’s actually affiliated with a prominent OKC charitable organization) essentially runs a rehab. Which would be great if I had addiction issues. As much as these people tried to convince me that I did, or that I needed a year in, essentially, a jail/mental ward/boot camp, I just was not buying it. Not that it was all bad. Made lots of friends.
2. I’ve met someone new. We’re madly in love and we can’t wait to get married. Kenny is my soul mate. He’s AMAZING. He’s cute, funny, smart, and compassionate.
3. I’ve decided that I’m gonna stop wasting my time with these jobs and get on with my career. I’m going into nursing. I start CNA school in September.

That’s it, in a nutshell.

So, I’m off work today. Yesterday didn’t blow. A bit slow, but it was Tuesday. Probably came close to making my numbers.  Remade one display bed- kept the bedding but added some accessories and generally made it look more visually appealing. Changed out another. I LOVE doing the beds and displays- it’s like making an art piece but it’s totally interactive.  Seriously, displays are my favorite part of my job by a long shot.

Yikes, it’s chilly in here.

I’m coping better with my decision to end my relationship. It wasn’t that I don’t love Eric more than life itself, because I do. I don’t anticipate being over him for a long time. But he went to Rhode Island for the summer and hasn’t come back. He may never. And from what I’ve heard RI is sort of a crappy place to live. Also, I always got the feeling that he didn’t take our relationship nearly as seriously as I did. I don’t date just for shits and giggles. I date with the intention of finding my life partner. He just didn’t seem keen on the idea of getting married and having babies- not sure if it was me or he just doesn’t want to get married, period. Dude’s been through 3 failed engagements so that’s probably a big issue right there.

Point is, I love him. I do. Sometimes I wish I had a magic wand to wave that would make all the bad parts of our relationship go away. But that’s not realistic. And I can do better than to spend what’s left of my prime waiting around for someone to realize that they love me as much as I love them. If it hasn’t happened by now it won’t. And I just need to suck it up and move on.  Even if it means I could very well spend the rest of my life alone because nobody will ever compare to him (his good points, at least).

Bleh. Need to get out of this funk.

Today coulda gone better sales-wise. IDK what I’m doing wrong. James (ASM) is trying to get me to be a little more sociable- asking customers about the weather and such. Just not really my thing. I’m sure I’ll hit my stride. I just don’t think the poor man is used to dealing with the mentally ill on a recurring basis.

He wore a pink shirt to work today, so of course I hassled him a bit. His argument was that it wasn’t pink. It was RASPBERRY. Yeah, because raspberry is so much more manly than pink.  (No offense if you’re reading this, James, but pink raspberry doesn’t flatter you in the least. Seriously. And I could’ve been a lot less charitable- most guys would’ve been asked if they’d lost a bet at the very least.)

Scheduled off tomorrow. Going in anyway (early!) to work on markdowns b/c my hours got cut liek whoa.

I broke up with Eric. He’s been in RI since May. I don’t know if or when he’s coming back.

My job is insane. My numbers are lousy, I’m in trouble for stuff constantly and I’m about to plotz from the stress of it all. I feel incompetent, poorly socialized and, to boot, really unattractive.

But I digress. I have a hard time going into the details of my mother’s passing. Mostly because I don’t really know what to say. It all seems so maudlin really.

Growing up, it was just me, my brother and our mom. We were pretty tightly knit. Granted, we didn’t always see eye to eye but I knew she had my back.

Anyway, she died pretty suddenly. Actually, I should elaborate: she fell into a coma suddenly and was hooked up to machines for 3 weeks while the doctors ran tests to determine whether or not she would ever resurface, let alone function.

I don’t remember a lot about those 3 weeks. I’ve probably blocked much of it. I remember feeling dazed and under a lot of pressure- at first to rally around my mom and then to make the decision to take her off the machines and other treatments that were keeping her alive. Her brain was severely damaged; she was able to breathe on her own and that’s honestly about it. Her heart kept seizing up and her kidneys had failed. She had never regained consciousness and according to the battery of tests she wasn’t going to.

I almost missed her last moments. I’d gone to the cafeteria for dinner and when I came back up to the floor her room was on, I was met by various family members, panicked because I wasn’t there when it was readily apparent that she was dying.

I don’t remember the exact moment of her passing. I remember being alone with her after though. I felt like I was supposed to weep uncontrollably but I couldn’t feel anything but a twinge of guilt through the numbness.

Instead, I’m feeling it all now, I guess. Sometimes, at random, a song will come on the radio or I’ll hear a woman who sounds like her and I’ll just lose it. As in lock myself in a closet/backroom/wherever and just bawl my eyes out.

I’m sorry. I thought this would be more eloquent, as opposed to just being disjointed, overly-emotional ramblings that will land me on someone’s STFU blog.  I’m not interested in anyone’s pity- I’m well aware that lots of people have gone through so much worse.  Meh. This still looks like a cry for attention and/or pity. Not my intention.

*sigh*