Conversations with my father stressing the fact that life is a test “One day you’ll understand”

Own up to your own shit. 

I’m not perfect. I own up to the fact that I’m not perfect. 

I make mistakes. Sometimes I’m careless and I hurt people, physically or emotionally. 

But when I make a commitment to something, I do everything in my power to see it through, and if it turns out that I can’t live up to my commitment, I own up to that too, and I do the best I can for those affected.

Roommates on the other hand…. they seem to think that they can take advantage and take you for granted, and then short you on the rent.

I have decided that from here on out, I am only going to live in places I can afford on my own. Or with Amanda. No roommates. No roommate drama. 

The place I live now, I couldn’t afford, and AP didn’t have a job and didn’t help with any of the bills or anything. I still can’t afford it on what I make now, not if I want to eat anyways.

So when Amanda and I look for places for us both to live once our leases are up, we’re looking for something that is WELL within our price range. And she’ll actually be contributing to bills! Its a novel idea I know, but since I’ve had a freeloading (now)ex girlfriend, scumbag white trash roommate and his bumblefuck girlfriend, and now mr I’ll take you for granted and short you… I’m ready for someone who actually understands responsibility and how to manage money. Not that those are the only reasons why I want to move in with Amanda of course. 

We haven’t spent a night apart in almost two months. But I know that we have at least one night coming up next week where she’ll stay in Illinois to set up for the event she’s working, and I’ll go home and sleep at home because I have to be at work in the morning. 

But I know that after I get done at work, it’ll be just a longish drive to Collinsville before I get to spend the weekend with hundreds of my kinky brethren doing all sorts of prurient things that you bastards still don’t get to hear about.

(But in other news, I put up a blog post on that one page with the one thing and the people. You should check it out.)

Went to a party on Saturday night. Had a blast. Worked a scene. My arms and shoulders are tired. But Amanda says that sadists are whiney. I still bruised my knuckles, as per usual…

Bottom line…. responsibility. 

When you actually look at it, you’re not only responsible for yourself, but you’re responsible for how your actions affect the people around you. 

My responsibility extends beyond just me and encompasses Amanda as well. For a while, it encompassed my roommate, but no longer now. 

My responsibilities to myself: (in the vaguest most generalist of terms)

Make sure I eat and drink plenty of water

Make sure I get enough sleep

Make sure that I perform admirably at work to keep my job

Make sure that Amanda is all right

Make sure that Amanda knows I love her

My responsibilities to Amanda: (In the vaguest most general of terms)

Make sure she drinks enough water and eats enough (we both have bad habits of not doing either)

Make sure she gets enough sleep.

Make sure she doesn’t just consume red bull and coffee

Do what I can to help lessen her stress level.

Do what I can to help her be happy.

Love her. Always love her.

Keep her best interests in mind. Always.

 

Responsibility. It’s a heavy thing, but with the burden, comes the amazing rewards as well. Because with doing what I can to make Amanda happy, comes letting her do things to make me happy, and things of that nature. It’s a reciprocal deal. 

And being there for her, being that person that she goes to when everything goes pear shaped and she needs someone to hold her and tell her that everything’s going to be okay? That’s pretty damned awesome. Being the person she calls when everything’s going right and she needs a hug to squeeze out the excitement? That’s pretty damned awesome. Being the person she calls when she just needs a hug? That’s pretty damned awesome. 

On the site with the people and the stuff I told her that I wanted to be with her through any type of emotional weather. And that’s the truth. 

Because, just as much as she is mine, I am hers. And I can’t expect her to take care of herself at my insistance, if I don’t take care of myself. 

I take my responsibilities seriously. I don’t undertake more without understanding what it means and what will be expected of me. 

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4 comments

  1. EmmJ

    “before I get to spend the weekend with hundreds of my kinky brethren doing all sorts of prurient things that you bastards still don’t get to hear about.”

    Are you *sure* we don’t want to hear about it?

    • Sarah

      Oh you might WANT to hear about it, but that’s probably not something I’ll post here. But I can DM you links to a site where I will post about it. Though you may have to join… but suffice it to say there will be much pain given and taken and much fun to be had by all. Or, you could just give me your email addy and i’ll send you the blog posts with all the fun prurient details.

  2. Kali

    Collinsville is home to large amounts of kinky brethren? (I cannot work my brain around this at all, because my aunt lived in Collinsville when I was a kid, where my three cousins grew up, and her and kink in the same sentence is an oxymoron, a paradox, a schism . . . . etc etc etc my head hurts.)

    This is why I haven’t had a roommate since college- my best friend, we were roommates for two and a half years, pretty much fucked my trust of sharing housing with anyone else.

    • Sarah

      Beat Me in St. Louis and Spanksgiving (two of the BDSM lifestyle events) are held at a hotel in Collinsville. So yes, there WILL be hundreds of kinky brethren in Collinsville, but usually we’re pretty well spread around.
      Yeah, no more roommates. I don’t do roommates.

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