I dreamed of him again last night.

The bastard, always shows up when I don't want him to, never when I do. He's always been that way, and I think he finds enjoyment in it. He says he shows up when he's needed, and sometimes just for fun.

Of course he'd blame me.

He doesn't have a name, always refusing to tell me. I ask, every time I ask, but he always just laughs and changes the topic. But he's been there, always waiting, always with the same song playing in the background. It's a classical piece, but none I've ever heard. I've been trying to put my finger on it, something close, but nothing is ever exactly right. It's a pretty sound, but with harsh undertones. They're not there unless you really pay attention. Much like him, I guess. Pretty, but cut throat.

I remember the first time we met. Which is an odd way to put it, meeting somebody your mind created. I was probably nine or ten the first time he showed up, just as egotistical, sadistic, and cool as he is now. I don't remember the dream, I just remember him. He showed up again in a dream I've told here before, the baby in a crock pot dream. Twirling around in a mirrored room with him while I let a child die. He hasn't showed up for a while, guess things have been too easy lately or something.

I knew I'd see him when I heard that damn music. The room was very bright, everything cream colored. It was a large room, with a large balcony overlooking something. I never got a chance to go look, but I know it was dark outside, the moon having just risen and shining into the balcony doors.

It was a fancy night. He was all dressed up, he had a drink in his hand, and he was leaning against a piano in the corner of the room. He smiled at me, though it wasn't really a welcoming one, but for him it was.

He called out my name. I shivered.

It doesn't matter if I don't like him. But there's a part of me that always hopes he'll stop acting civilized and act as untame and HIM as I know he is. That part of me wants him to rip off the very expensive dress I had on and take me on top of the piano.

Apparently he knows this. He chuckles and puts his drink down on top of it and reaches a hand out to me.

I go to him, hating every moment.

He asks me what I'm scared of. I tell him nothing, and he shakes his head. He calls me a liar, says that if nothing else, if I'm scared of nothing else in this world, I'm scared of him. I roll my eyes, but I know he's right.

He's always been there, in the dark, waiting. In a few dreams I know he's saved me from something but I don't know what. I do know he holds it over my head. He knows something I don't know and he loves it. The fucker won't even tell me why he's stayed all these years. He reminds me that I made him up.

I always counter with the fact that I have no control over him, his actions, how could I have created him?

He just smiles.

We dance. There's no mirrors in this room, but there is a large chandelier in the middle, twinkling in the light. I don't know the dance we're doing, I couldn't do it waking if you paid me, but we dance.

I take a moment to notice my dress. A dark green this time, and not a princess sort like the last time we danced. It was pretty, I liked it.

I don't remember what we talked about. I never do. I just always wake up knowing he was there, I remember the scene, the set up, but never the follow through. He says it's because that's what I'm best at. The scenes, the follow ups, but I'm terrible with finishing what I start.

That, at least, I can agree with him on.

I remember the endings though. I never want to leave, he tells me I must. I hate him, for many different reasons. I always do, and he smirks again. I want to punch him. I'm sure I have. It probably just hurt me more than it did him.

He bends down. He whispers something in my ear. He kisses that spot behind your ear where it starts to slope down to your neck.

He tells me good night, I tell him it's time to wake up, not go to sleep.

He laughs at me. Tells me how wrong I always am.

And then I wake up.

Am I wrong in thinking that once you're living with your significant other, you should maybe tell them about plans you have? Especially if it involves an overnight trip someplace? Yeah? Oh, okay then, nevermind.

I mean, it's not like I didn't think he wasn't going to the party. He goes every year. But I mean, it'd be nice if he had told me, ya know? Instead of me finding out via facebook and him thinking he didn't have to tell me. We LIVE together. We kind of tell each other these kinds of plans. Then all "I just figured you wouldn't go."

You're right. I hate raves. I hate being with people I'm not fond of. I hate sleeping on the floor afterwards in a cold house on wood floors. I'm not going.

But it still would have been nice for you to tell me. To maybe fake ask.

Maybe it's the hormones, but I'm kind of hurt about this. Not the first time it's happened.

So, Oct. 29th, let's party, xanga.

Please?

So we drove around the area a bit ago. We figured since it was a saturday night, the weather was nice, we'd be able to get a feel for the area and if it'd be noisy or not. It wasn't, it was relatively quiet. Couple kids running around, but otherwise.

So we were feeling really good about the place earlier today, but the later the day got, the more bf has been downvoting it. I was getting pissed about it on our way home because we spent all this time searching for places for him to basically give me a "I don't want the change" excuse. We talk about it (ie: he tells me he doesn't want me to get all passive aggressive pissed at him about it) and I simply say I'm not really pissed, I'm annoyed by his half assed reasons. He ends up saying that he's just paranoid about not feeling safe there. Where we are, we know we're good. We've even forgot to lock the doors a couple times. We KNOW we're safe here. Very much so in fact. We've never had problems, we know what we have here, etc. He said the main thread in the reviews for that place was that people didn't feel safe there.

See? Much better reason. I didn't get those vibes, but I tend to get way excited about the prospect of something new. So I don't know. I said it's ultimately up to him, since he's the one that pays for it. If he wants to spend the extra 300-400 bucks for that, that's his thing.

But ugh, you guys. I get so sick of dragging my shit down to the laundry room. And we always talk about saving money and all that and we just don't do it. But whatever. I guess my dream of not having to leave my home to do my laundry just won't happen for a while longer by the way the feel of that last convo went.

We looked at 3 places today. We drove past one and we decided the area was too sketch for our liking. We went to the one we actually had an appointment to look at and it was really nice! Smaller than what we have now but it has everything we want. It doesn't have a dishwasher, which I kind of fell in love with when I moved here, but I can deal with that.

I took pictures, of course. We looked at an apartment and we looked at a townhome, and we'd go with the townhome if we decide to move. But I ended up taking more pictures of closets than I did of the actual rooms, haha. Guess we know which I care more about.

Here are some pictures of the townhome! It's the model, of course, but.

Behind the lattice is where trash cans would go. Trash is the only thing included in the rent... well, lawncare and stuff too. I've seen some townhomes where you have to cut the grass yourself. They do it here.

LOVE ceiling fans, you guys. I know some people think they're old/tacky/whatever, but I LOVE them. It's in the dining room

Floor in the kitchen

BF! And closet in the 2nd bedroom.

Washer/Dryer!!!!

We would opt for the upgraded kitchen (it gives us a newer faucet and a veggie/fruit washer thing, which I love) also the kitchen is smaller in this one, with less counter space, but it's not a bad place. After all, I have a washer/dryer!

Closet in the living room

Living room

BF and living room from the dining room

Bathroom. It's bigger than the one we have now, but not by too much

Patio

I didn't take any pictures of the master bedroom, apparently. It was pretty much just like the second one, just a bit bigger. But I really liked this place. You can even plant stuff/paint walls! I was kind of thrilled by that.

Now we just have to decide if we want to deal with the hassle of moving. Really the only things we'd have an issue with is the couch/bed/dresser, but we're going to decide that tomorrow.

Me, on waking up: I had some crazy ass dreams last night.
BF: Same
Me: What were yours?
BF: I don't remember, but I remember waking up because my knee hurt and you were pressed up against my back having some wicked nightmare. Your breathing was all wonky and you were basically clutching me.
Me: Mmm, I vaguely remember a nightmare, but I don't remember what it was about.

And this is why I enjoy having somebody to sleep with. He makes the nightmares go away. <3

Onto crazy ass dream I DO remember:

So it started out where I was in some like, boy scouts kinda thing and we had to build this log cabin on a mossy hill, but to certain points. Like the door had to be level on the ground but only 2 inches away from the roof and stuff. When we were done, it wasn't a real log cabin, but a paper one. Then I was with my niece and @sas07 and it was like this weird maze that we had to figure out how to get through but it was all magicky and stuff and it had something to do with hogwarts. I remember there was a point where I whole group of us were in a convenient store and Toby Keith was a cashier and I needed a ticket to get in this car to take us to the castle and I was the only one that didn't have one and he was being so slow at getting it for me that I missed the car, so I had to run and try to catch it but it flew off (literally). So I'm running down the course that was super dangerous and then I get to this point before some woods where these dangerous birds were that would eat you, and @sas07 is there again and we are trying to figure out how to get through it alive (we went by train last time) and then we hear singing and the birds aren't attacking the person and it ends up being one of the Doctors that I work for.

And then we apparently graduated hogwarts because of this? And we had to pick a magic college to go to, either CW (in Canada) or NW (in like, the Oregon area but they were farther apart than they should ahve been, distance wise on the map) I pick CW, my niece picks NW, and we had to do this blindly. Once there we learn that CW is a  lib. arts magic college and NW was for history and cooking (yeah.) so we go to switch schools and we have to get on an elevator in an apartment complex, which will somehow take us there? But it's super confusing and we never figure it out and then I woke up.

Aren't they cute?

Guess who never came. Yup, maintenance guy. Sigh.

I've thought about this post all day. I started it in my head as I was driving to work, I added bits and pieces while I was bored at work, and when I went to write it... it just didn't happen. It was about child abuse, the different forms of it, how we've been through it, and why we're scared of it. But it just doesn't come out on the screen the way I have it in my head. But I'll try anyway.

It's something you don't really talk about as a kid. You don't tell your teachers that mommy throws casserole dishes (full of casserole) at you. You don't tell your friends that screaming makes you so anxious and nervous that you have to hide in a closet and cover your ears. These things are small. After all, momma never actually HIT you with the dish. Her aim isn't that good, especially when she's mad. And you weren't the one being screamed at, so things don't matter. They're not as important as Suzie who gets beat daily, or Johnny who gets touched inappropriately by his step-dad.

But I still think it's child abuse. Just not as overt.

When I finally talked about it with my sisters, they all agreed. Shit had happened to them too that they just didn't talk about. When we brought it up to mom one day (who's now on meds for her depression and is basically a different woman) she denied it. She said we were crazy and exaggerating.

She never was very good at owning up to her mistakes.

She never beat us. She only hit us with the back of the hairbrush because we were wiggling. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was screaming at dad and we were trying to get out of the way. She didn't throw things at us, we just happened to be in the way. Screaming? That's arguing, and you need to stop being such a baby.

That's really what it boils down to. Stop being such a baby.

Last night when BF and I went to The Cheesecake Factory for dinner, there were these two kids. Maybe four or five years old. Their parents were waiting on a table, and the kids were running up and down the walkway between the tables and the bar, going around the corner by the bathrooms, then running back. They did this for the whole 15-20 minutes they were waiting for a table.

It drove us crazy. Mainly because of the fact that servers were coming around that corner with food. If the kids ran into them and got hurt, it'd be the restaurants ass even though the parent's should have been, you know, parenting. Also because they weren't watching them at all.

Also because we both would have gotten our asses whipped if we had pulled something like that as kids.

BF won't really talk about it. I've only heard bits and pieces, a snatch of "There's a reason my sister and I are so fucked up" here, something about bruises all up and down his arms there. I don't push it. I understand. You don't talk about these things. Kind of like how I didn't explain to him the first couple times when he caught me hiding in the back of a closet, holding Mr. Fuzzles and crying.

We don't want children, and I think it's be cause we're afraid of becoming our parents. We're afraid of throwing things, of screaming, of not having the patience to deal with things like we should. We're afraid of punching them, of teaching them the really wrong way to deal with your anger.

We grew up in loving homes, for the most part. We were fed, we were clothed, we went on field trips and did extra-curriculars. We had friends, we went to sleep overs, we were, to a vast majority of the country, privileged children.

But that doesn't make the pain any less real.

I said earlier how I don't deal with mad well. It's because of this. I grew up (as did BF) in an environment filled with screaming. Instead of it being the norm, it made us nervous kids. To this day if there's people yelling I'll tear up. It doesn't matter if it's towards me. If you ARE mad at me for something, it happens even faster, even if you didn't raise your voice. I grew up knowing that you didn't have to be the reason for the pissed off tone, but if you were in the way you were going to get the brunt of it.

The title of this post is, of course, from The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe. I thought it suitable, considering Mr. Poe was from this area. On my way to work I realized that I feel so much lighter now that I don't live at home. It doesn't matter that shit hasn't happened since I was a teenager, that stuff still weighs on you. I realized that now that I'm gone, living in my current environment, I finally feel okay. I'm not tip toeing around at night, I'm not flinching at every slammed door (much). I feel light, and free, and that's a wonderful feeling.

I refuse to create or go back to an environment where I shrink away from every loud sound like some whipped pup. I refuse to, and you couldn't make me if you tried. BF is much the same way, if not exactly so.

You could never make us do that, or treat somebody like that. But it's still there. In the back of our minds. What if.

BF said he wouldn't be home for dinner (something came up at work) so told me to go ahead and eat. So I ordered chinese. That's totally legit. I mean, he'll have food when he gets home, it won't be cold(ish) and it's quick and easy and okay maybe I just want to validate my chinese food craving. Shut up, don't judge me. Yeah, I'm looking at you nutrition guide, givin' me the side eye. You can just shut your big mouth.

On another note, I may have found our next apartment! We're going to look at it at 2pm on saturday. It's cheaper ($890 a month and that's with the cats), it has a washer/dryer in unit, it has FIOS, and it's closer to work (not much, but some). They do the utilities differently though, as in you're responsible for all of your part. At our current place here they basically take what the whole building owes, divide it by residents, and that's what you pay. Right now our utility bill is normally anywhere from $100-150, so I'm not sure how much that will change, but considering our rent will be $1327 (that's base rent, NOT including what we'd owe for the cats) if we renew our lease here, I think no matter what we do it'd save us money.

I'm kind of excited about it. It's smaller, but still!

edit: bf home. pissed about something at work (basically he's stuck between two bosses telling him to do two different things with the same computer). not excited about the apartment because the reviews online aren't good. i always get so nervous when he's pissed. not because i'm scared but because i don't deal with mad well. D:

It's hard to dance with the devil on your back.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I love this show. It's a show on Animal Planet about this dude who's a biologist and expert fisherman who goes around the world searching for these "monsters" that people have described that have killed people or something. It's just a really good show. So today after my nap, while BF was still asleep I decided to sit down and watch a couple episodes. Obviously, the cats decided to join me.
 
Mainly Mal, who loves watching screens that have stuff moving on them.

But Wash decided to join as well. Mainly in the form of laying beside me half asleep.

Please ignore my messy floor. Having two cats is like having two kids. Toys get thrown everywhere.

How was your sunday?