I feel sometimes as though I’m two different people. A part of me seems relaxed enough to breathe and realize that life will progress, things will move forward and go where they will. The rest of me says that nothing is where it should be.

I hate battling the green monster, Envy. She’s a bitch. Especially when she exposes odd standards. I’m jealous of my best friend moving in with her boyfriend to make her commute easier, but I won’t move in with mine. Well, first of all, I wasn’t asked to. I don’t think he wants me to. And I don’t want to. I mean… logically, it would make sense to move ten minutes from my place of employment when working on my salary. On the other hand… no. I’ve seen that end badly too many times. I refuse to move in without it actually being a decision, a step forward in the relationship (mainly, denoting engagement) because aside the physical and emotional fallout that happens when that shit collapses, then you’re adding shared goods and monetary issues. It’s like divorce without ever wearing the white dress. It’s bullshit. I don’t believe you need a trial run… a relationship is something you continuously work on, it’s just like a relationship with friends. You make accommodations and find middle ground and you can live together, and if you can’t then maybe you’re a stubborn ass or maybe you don’t actually love the person and marriage was a horrible idea in the first place. *breathes* Whew. Sorry.  That said, it makes SO little sense for me to be jealous. But I am. Wouldn’t it be lovely to be ten minutes from work, see him every day, sleep next to him every night, make our pets make friends. Cook. Then again, I wouldn’t fit at his place. It’s a bachelor pad. There are touches that show he’s older, like he cares enough to put up curtains, but his ADHD and bachelorism show in that he’s not unpacked from August, things are strewn everywhere, and he’s mixing Asian décor with modern art. (No matter that I’ve made heavy suggestions on where at least a few pieces of the art would look nice.) I keep telling myself it’s his place, not mine, which is true; but it means I keep further and further removing myself from the idea of ever living there.  That, and I can’t stand that his cats are allowed on the table and the countertops. Like….. really? The table runner is so covered in cat hair right now, I wouldn’t put a plate in the room. There’s very little I keep my cats off of, but tables/countertops are at the top of that list… yeah… don’t know that I could live like that / risk my cats learning the same awful manners.

I'm killing myself with my hypocrisy right now. My better half is telling me that he would be accommodating and welcome me and I would be allowed to have say in where things go/ he would listen to why / and I would listen to his (however sometimes dubious) decorating ideas. (But really, what home hasn't been improved by a woman's touch? I mean I've already picked the curtains in two rooms.) I have dreams of a house or even an apartment that's picked together, but I suppose with time and patience I could adjust to moving into what is already somebody else's established space. ....If I am allowed to organize. #myOCDvshisADHD

What really kills me is judging my friend for this move. Her boyfriend is in law school, she’s going to be making money –and I would be willing to bet the car she drives is still in her parents’ name and on her parents’ insurance. I hate that I make a decent starting wage for my profession and I barely survive hand-to-mouth after helping mom around the house. Because I do live there. I get it. And she’s strapped for cash right now. Ugh.

Another friend is approaching her fourth wedding anniversary, being a stay at home mom with an almost 2-year-old and a four-month-old. The kicker is that that is the kind of life we would discuss in high school… and she has it. Yes, I’m irrationally jealous. I would do things a tad differently, but… I’m really a simple girl. Really.  And a part of me can’t help but ask myself what I am doing wrong… Who I wasn’t good enough for… I have a birthday in a few weeks and it struck me my mom was the age I will be for most of being pregnant with me. Not that it’s a competition or even comparison. But I have always said I wanted to be a young mother. My mom was so cool. She was young and hip and everyone loved her and she could do all this stuff with us and for us.

I don’t want to be my coworker, getting married finally at 27 and not thinking about kids until a few years after that. Yes, I want some time for me and my husband….. and I’m scared even that will slip away as time goes by, for fear of losing a chance. Ugh. That’s neither here nor there. I’m not going to get knocked up just because I’m scared of getting old. But I’m nowhere. And I hate it. I’m tired of worrying and I’m tired of being jealous. 

But there's got to be an opening
Somewhere here in front of me
Through this maze of ugliness and greed
And I seen the sun up ahead
At the county line bridge
Sayin' all there's good and nothingness is dead
We'll run until she's out of breath
She ran until there's nothin' left
She hit the end-it's just her window ledge

This is a piece I stole from @Datingish, penned by @mercurywindwalker. I wish Xanga had a "reblog" button, but this seemed a little long to cross-post to Tumblr. Maybe later. Anyway, the following piece has been unedited by yours truly unless you see underlines. Underlines are my accents.

Author's Preface

I'm not super religious or anything but I'm not some layless lame either. I like to think of myself as somewhere inbetween. But its something thats been bothering me. I forgot how much sex was the main topic of discussion even when I was practically a kid. Since joining xanga i've seen the debate and read many comments from the religious stance and from the not so religious stance.

I think sex is something that everyone has to decide on for themselves. The importance of that statement is reduced by all types of things such as dogma, doctrine, demographics, (forgive all the d's) rearing, personal stories and God knows what else. The thing that I feel most people don't acknowledge is that people have to experience things in order to learn from them.

If your parents were married before ever having sex, conceiving you and having the happiest family in the history of the world, then thanks to that wonderful example being set by your parents, you may have a much easier time holding off for Mr./Mrs. right. If your parents were pregnant with you in high school and had to skip out on college to raise you and somehow managed to acquire the means to live comfortably, that doesn't mean you'll do equally well.

What I'm saying is often times we don't account for differences in circumstances. And difference in circumstance doesn't have to entail any type of Cultural-Relativism or anything. The thing is we all like to preach our beliefs. We are all justified in the stances we take on subjects and there is little anyone can do to change our minds.

What I do have trouble with is our intolerance for each others opinions. When I see two people going at it, and practically wish death upon one another it really gets me down. That after all our intelligence and sovereignty over lesser life forms, we can reduce ourselves to hating one another for differing beliefs is the epitome of degradation of humanity as a whole. Alas, here's my own experience and I apologize if this took on lecture form!

My First!

Yeah, I said it...and yeah I'm a guy no matter who may think otherwise after reading this post! But here it is!

I first became sexually active as a teenager in high school. All the guys were talking about it, all the girls were promiscuous, not to mention media and music have never done much to deter us from this fast lane of sexuality. It didn't help that my first and I were head-over-heels in love and were certain that we'd spend the rest of our lives together. Long story short it changed everything. Some things for the better, some for the worst. Lemme explain.

First things first, it was amazing! I'll spare the details but I don't regret it, and I'm glad it was with her. That was the good! Now for the bad. 

I moved away and our relationship was deteriorating. I could see that, and so could she, but there wasn't much we could do about it. We tried everything from A-Z. In the end I opted for us to end it. We were too attached. We were like one in the same and couldn't imagine ourselves being with anyone else. We were in way too deep, and looking back, I can honestly say the sex is what took us there.

I started to realize it and suggested that we just remain friends, until our situations changed, but she wasn't having it. It was all or nothing! It was like if I left then nothing else existed. I held firm in my conviction, and though it was hard we separated. That didn't stop her from implementing all types of strategies and tactics to rekindle what we once had but it didn't work. Ok maybe we were too young. Here's situation number two.

My Second!

My first college girlfriend. Once again I'll spare the details. The thing was, we moved way too fast! I'm the type of person that thinks if it's right it'll happen when it happens. Maybe I was right and maybe I was wrong, but if it never happened I would never have learned what I know today.

Fact of the matter is the sex was amazing! We reached a really sensual place with loads of passion involved. I learned alot and it definitely helped that our sex drives sorta matched cuz we were like a couple of toads. The bad thing was that's as far as we managed to get. We ignored alot of things in the beginning that came back to bite us in the butt later.

I dealt with as much as I could and when I snapped it's like the feelings I had for her did the same. She was always unhappy but for some reason she couldn't come to terms with the idea of us separating when I brought it up. The sex was all we had left. And she seemed to be using it to hold us together. In the end, it was me again that had to practically pry her arms from around me and say

"That's enough, we can't keep doing this to ourselves."

So maybe we moved too fast and should have never reached the sexual part of our relationship, or maybe that was bound to happen to prove that we were never meant to be! Either way I've been reflecting A HELL OF A LOT and this is what I came up with. 

Resolution

It's cliche, but it's the truth. Sex can be a beautiful experience that can take you and your partner to higher levels of commitment and places that the English language can't even begin to put into words. The thing is, it's a two-sided coin, and that other side ain't so damn pretty. It can change everything for the worse. It can ruin a perfectly good friendship, and change feelings of innocent love into unwavering hatred. It's not something to toy around with. 

Sex has always been something that I left up to the girl. Now I think I have the knowledge and the will power to turn that around. In my experience, sex seems to turn the voltage up on things. It's made me question myself, it's made me take someone back who cheated, it's forced attachments on a relationship that should have never lasted as long as it did and it's brought me a lot of pain.

It's physically stimulating and emotionally satisfying but there is much to consider when indulging oneself in it because it is most certainly a double-edged sword. I realize what matters most is if you're with someone who makes it special. Personally, I want to wait a REALLY long time in the future. Unless we agree otherwise, I don't want sex complicating things beyond repair. There's also the chance we may not work out and sex definitely has a drastic effect on being able to move on. Guys don't like to admit it but it does. It's why we fool around with our ex after breaking up. Yeah it's stupid, but thats just us!

It just makes me wonder how many people have regretted having been sexually active but never evaluated it enough to know why.