Postcards from Far Away

Text message from a certain 15 year old telling me that she doesn’t trust me anymore because I didn’t tell her that me and S. are together… Even though we’re not “officially” boyfriend/girlfriend. You know, because when you’re 27 and 31, you don’t actually ask questions like you did in eighth grade. Plus, you know, there’s life experience and exes that come along with everything. Fuck.

Like. What the actually fuck? Is it really such a fucking crime that I want to keep some part of my life to me (and Tumblr)? I don’t need to tell everyone every fucking detail of my dating life. I can decide whom to tell what.

Yep, he spent the night at my apartment. Yep, it got physical. Yep, I’m happy about it. Nope, he didn’t ask if I wanted to go out with him. Yep, I’m okay with that. Nope, I didn’t tell the Family about this. Why? It’s none of their business. (Wait, I actually think I mentioned to R. that S. spent the night because it got late, but that’s okay because he’s not weird about it like I. and G. are.)

I’m not ashamed of being with S. I love spending time with him, and the L-Word has crossed my mind several times in terms of how to describe my feelings for him. And actually, we have discussed our feelings for each other and have discovered that they are very similar. In fact, they are the same. His ex is still somewhat in the picture because he is not a cruel guy, and he’s making sure she has a place to live that she can afford before he takes her keys to his apartment away. He’s helping her with furniture and everything. Although I don’t like that she seems to be taking advantage of him, I like that he is willing to help her get settled in a new place. I think that speaks really highly of him.

He respects me and my wishes for how we proceed in our relationship. I like him a lot, and I can see this being a very serious relationship. I want him to meet my friends! I could even see introducing him to my parents when they come in September.

So, no, I. I will NOT justify my relationship to you. You are 15. I am 27. I am an adult. You are a child. I can do what I want because I have my own apartment and pay my own bills. And even if some of my money DOES come from your parents, that still doesn’t give you the right to know everything about my relationship. You know why? I work for the money that comes from your parents. So whatever. You can bitch about me being there all you want, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter because I work there. I do all the stuff that you won’t do because you’re spoiled and entitled. I love you. Really. But seriously, grow up.

I am so happy to be with S.