My Christmas is going to be a long one this year. As soon as Josh gets home from work we are driving up to Orlando to see his family and his best friend, Michele. Then tomorrow, on the way home, my mom’s. Saturday, my dad’s and Sunday my aunt’s. I hate traveling just for the fact that I am such an indecisive packer. I pack a week’s worth of shit for a twenty four hour layover. And I hate sitting in the car for hours. I hate being alert for that long. I hate driving past 95. I’m sure being around his parents will be somewhat awkward. I never have any idea what to talk to them about. They are both very nice people, but considering the fact that Josh doesn’t consider himself close with his family -I have no idea what we could possibly have in common. And do they even have any idea how bad it has been? Do they have any idea that I’ve probably kept their son alive and jail free for the past 3.5 years? Or that I’ve paid the majority of every bill since we’ve met? It bothers me yes, but I would never tell them. It would probably take me leaving Josh for me to share those facts. To give them a reason why I am taking Jashar away and giving up on their youngest boy. I do not wish for that to happen.  Jashar will luckily be a great distraction for everyone.

Josh asked me this morning if a rich man could ever steal me away from him. Without hesitation, I said, “No!” And that is the truth as far as I know it. Because it would take a lot more than just wealth to create that reality. I honestly don’t know what combination of attributes would succeed in doing this, so for all intensive purposes, it doesn’t exist. Josh has been so loving to me lately it’s hard to take it seriously. Isn’t that sad? He is treating me well, and my reaction is suspicion. His feelings are so inconsistent that I never feel completely secure about what is around the corner. Is that strange to live inside such a bubble of emotional fear and insecurity? Do I revel in this extended moment or prepare myself with guarded nature for the next excrutiating blow?