By everyone else’s standards I just turned 25. But I believe that life starts at conception, so I am actually almost 26. You know, because we are incubated for 9 months before taking our first breath. I was born to two not so great parents. Mom partied too much and refused to stick with one man for too long. Maybe she just couldn’t find the right one? Dad was in the Army then decided that he wanted to drive an 18-wheeler. So, it wasn’t until I was old enough to start thinking for myself that we actually had any kind of relationship. Because my parents divorced a few months after I was born, I had the opportunity to have a step-mom and four step-siblings for a short time, three step-dads and a half-brother.
My childhood was not at all great. My little brother’s dad (my first step-dad) was abusive. My second step-dad was a pervert. And my third step-dad was/is a farmer. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against farmers, it just wasn’t the life for me. Although he was a farmer, he was the best step-father a kid could ask for. He didn’t have any children of his own, and still doesn’t, but he took in and raised two kids that didn’t belong to him. And for that, I will forever be grateful. He also dealt with my mother’s bullshit for 11 years before she decided “Hey, let me get drunk and do some coke first thing in the morning. The fact that I have a pacemaker shouldn’t be an issue. Oh, what the hell, I have nothing left to live for.”
Apparently she really didnt, because it killed her.
Intentional or not, I lost my mom right before I turned 20 and got married. It’s not like she was going to the wedding anyway. We had serious issues. She kicked me out of the house twice and once I wasn’t even living there. The first time was 5 days after my girlfriend shot herself in the head in the girls bathroom during our freshman year of high school; and on the same day that my grandmother passed away.
That was a shitty May. First I lost my girlfriend, 5 days later my grandmother and got kicked out, then 14 days after that, I turned 15. I really hate the month of May.
Anyway, before I give you a play-by-play of my whole childhood, let’s fast forward to meeting my now husband.
When we first met, I was still a minor. He was not. Infact, he had already been married, had a daughter, and divorced. The only thing I liked about him was the fact that he was a musician. He played the drums in a band and was pretty talented with the guitar. And his singing voice wasn’t terrible. Plus, he was fun to irritate. Other than that, I could give a shit less about him. He was weird and kind of creepy and had a laugh that made you want to punch him in the face to keep your ears from bleeding.
That was it. He would come over to visit mom and my third step-dad, play music, teach us how to play spades, let me irritate him, and laugh until my teeth clinched.
Then one day, out of the blue, I found him on MySpace and sent him a message. I wasn’t looking for any sort of relationship. I was simply looking for an adult to talk to. See, I was going through a hard time, I hated my parents, I was stealing alcohol from my dad to get drunk, I was smoking pot, and I was contemplating suicide. I needed someone to talk to. I needed help. I knew he had a pre-teen daughter, so I figured that he would be able to give some kind of advice.
After a while, I began to fall for him. I knew because I wasnt quite 18, that I had to keep this to myself. I kept waiting for the feelings to go away. I kept telling myself it was just a phase and that I only liked him because he actually listened to what I had to say with no judgement.
They didn’t go away.
They didn’t go away and I told him. I told him that I loved him. I was sure that when I said that, he would cut off all communication. Of course he would. Why in God’s name would he want to risk losing everything because some stupid teenager thought she loves an older man? To my surprise, he didn’t leave me. He noted my feelings and went on with his life, but he didn’t leave me. Which was great for me, except I was jealous of his girlfriend.
Some time after I turned 18 and graduated high school, I got kicked out of my grandfathers house. Even though my dad didn’t live there, he thought I had worn out my welcome. So, I left. I left and I moved in with my best friend and her parents.
After staying with her for a little while, I decided to spend some time with him and his daughter. After 10 days, he asked me to move in with him and I agreed. We grew very close. And on my 19th birthday, he took me away for the weekend and proposed.
It wasn’t what I expected it to be. He didn’t get down on one knee. He didn’t have a big speech. It was short. It was simple. It was real.
We planned a fall wedding. And the October after my 20th birthday, we were wed. So, this year we will celebrate our 5 year wedding anniversary.
The difference in our ages has given us some challenges, but we have managed to work through them.
Unfortunately, the biggest challenge we have faced and are facing is getting me pregnant.
More about that in my next post.