Because That 4 Blocks Can Make Or Break You.

Moving is a fucking bitch. I'm a fine one to talk however, when considering that I am movings fucking bitch. I have a 7 year old, I do not have a car, and I have the babydaddy from hell who I'm terrified to make any changes in my life because of... one way or another, this shit hits the courts and I'm bombarded with a new set of demands he will make my life a living hell because of.

(To clarify, this is the man who sent me an email saying he works every bit as hard as I do, he's had our daughter for sometimes an entire week while in school himself! Nasty little dwarf, that one is.)

But, I'm also blessed with an alarmingly patient boyfriend who does elect to be a man, do anything he can to help, and never a once complain or snivel about what he isn't required to do-- fuck, he isn't required to do any of it, he's just a good person... he can't understand why you wouldn't always help when you could help a pretty lady with a little girl. There have been a million trips to load up the Hummer, endless nights listening to me fight back tears because little me doesn't like the house, the rug needs shampooed, I can't afford my cat deposit, I don't have time or energy to do these things, I'm broke as shit, my babydaddy is a jerk, my daughter won't sleep in her bed, I hate sleeping alone in my bed, we don't have time to have sex, I have headaches all the time, I'm getting old, i don't have storage, I have too many coffee tables for this place, and so on and so on and so on. I must spend hours a day doing this, so much so that one day I was talking about the new place and he lit up saying "Oh! you're happy!". And I was, though it was fleeting, and that made him happy.

And that's all a woman needs to see to know that for once in her entire life, she got it right-- she met an actually good man, and he loves her. That's the kind of shit that blows my mind.

It wouldn't blow any of my friends minds, however... I have nothing short of 345 emails from friends on facebook saying "Oh, so you moved in with Nivas!" Um... no. We've been together 6 months. That's less months than my child is years old. I have school. I have a daughter. I have friends and interests and values and problems and hobbies... I have a life that is entirely full, and what is more, is now also full of wonderful boyfriend time. I already have a life, period. It's not like this is what I've been looking for or waiting for to be fulfilled... this is icing. I'm not going to sit down with the tub and a spoon and discard my cake, especially not in a mere half a years time. What in the fuck is wrong with my friends?

For real, ladies.

In their defense, my guy friends would never ask me something so absurd.

And finally, I am here. Stopped still in the middle of my life and OK with it. I need to get the rugs cleaned somewhat badly, yes. I need to clear out the rest of my old apartment, yes. It would be nice to get my bed set up, totally. But until those things happen, I'm just so glad to have a huge apartment, a boyfriend who moves me physically and to the point of a big nasty lump in my throat with the kind of helpfulness and kindness and ability to know when to take over and when to stand back that I've never met a man man enough to rival in past (my but that's an awkward sentence, my but a lot of these are awkward sentences actually). Indirectly, simply in being so helpful he has done more for my daughter in way of the availability and peace of mind her mother has to offer than her own father has in 7 years of life and 1 in conception (and had one stellar conversation with the housewarming gift of a potbellied stuffed frog that absolutely blew my mind).

My cat is content on the table in front of me, my daughter is at daycamp, and I can sit in my sun room with a cup of coffee and blog from the comfort of my new house. There is furniture here, and food and a wall full of all of my teas across from another wall full of all my tea pots. I can take a shower if I want to, the water pressure is nice here. It rained earlier and there's a cool breeze blowing through the screen door while the sun breaks through the clouds periodically, the living room is dark and warm the way I like it with its deep burgundy rug and heavy dark vines, there is no dining table but there will be and it will be beautiful, only a small pile of boxes in one corner of that room to be packed before everything is finally done, and in this exact moment in time there is absolutely nothing I have to do... for the first time in weeks, I have a few minutes to simply sit and relax.

Ahhh.

God willing, I never have to move 8 blocks away... that may be one that actually kills me.