What the Hell are these Women Even On?!

First and foremost: these bitches be crazy.

No seriously. They run up and fetch a kid from the arms of the Slender Fuck and straight up drag that kid off. And yeah, that part hurt a bit. But they were still stubborn enough to do it.

So the tall woman mumbles about all the strays and generosity and the never worrying about the self, but she totally bends under the little one's words. It's kinda quaint. I never got the opportunity to really see people being all 'cute'. It wasn't exactly an option. Whatever. I'm not bemoaning my lack of social exposure.

I hear she's called Tia, and the other Lissie. I'm renaming them.

Respectfully, "Grumpy Mum" and "Paint-Splattered Mum." I think these are more appropriate callings. And besides, despite me only running with 'em a few days now, they treat me real nice.

Haven't been treated this nice since I was in school - an' hell was that a while ago. Actually, since I was with the tribe, and that was even longer ago. So I guess that's why I think the mums are crazy. Because they are. For treating a stranger-orphan-homeless kid so nice. I suppose in my backhanded way I wanna thank them for at least temporarily dragging me with them, so I'm making myself useful and cleaning up after them in their truck and stuff. I don't have shit else to do anyway.

And the grumpy mum needs a little extra support - despite what she says or claims or whatever.

Second, I guess I should introduce myself. They talked about me. Or the paint-splattered mum did. And she alluded to some things. About some tough topics. But I really don't know if I should go into all that yet.

Until further notice I guess I should give you a name.

Kailin. Not Kai. Not Lin. Not Kail. Not anything else. Kailin Lusio. And I am me. Does anything else really matter?

Some 'Splainin to Do

(it seemed appropriate, with Konaa's return.)
It's been a week. Okay, more than a week now. A week and a half. Had to squeeze in time to see a doctor after the test and hope I was... fooling myself. Panic attacks can do great changeful things to a woman's body.


Unfortunately this is not one of those times. Unfortunately, now, I have a decision to make. Unfortunately I have a lot to think about on the matter. Reasons to keep the unknown parasite, reasons not to keep it. Factors that can't be let go so simply. I don't know if I'm determined enough right now...


But it would give me plenty of reasons to keep going. To persevere. And Lissie would be here with me. That much is nice to think about.


I haven't made a decision yet. Don't make this about the rights and wrongs of woman and her body and the things she may or may not chose to carry within it. I haven't made my decision, so it's not the time to hatefully discuss hateful matters.


After I've made up my mind, I'll let you all trample me with all that. For now, I've all the reasons in the world to not care about the moral blasphemies.

Happy New Year

They say to do the thing on New Years that you want to do for the rest of the year.  I refuse to regret this.

 We can do no great things; only small things with great love... Let's make this year one worth living, and hold onto the kind of courage that is not all-encompassing, but which gets you along from minute to minute.

Elaboration

I'm going to try not to be overly emotional. Meaning I will probably fail. But I'm going to at least attempt it for everyone who reads our blog so that they are properly informed of the situation.


Blake has been... well I think it's obvious from the previous posts. He's not been himself. He's very kind and loving and puts everyone else first and thinks about every action and consequence before doing anything. I know most of you are just taking my word for it, but he genuinely meant for good things to come for people. He's normally a very loving man. He does things that are unnecessarily kind and unfathomably sweet.


You know that we went to Barcelona on a three month leave once over our years together? Well, for our anniversary that just passed he had recreated our trip on the roof of Hope (may the building and all who fell with it rest in peace). He had wine and tapas and flamenco music and it was really a beautiful night. Of course my favorite part had been hiking up to Montserrat and Sant Miquel de Fai, but you can't really bring that part to a rooftop dinner can you? At least we had some height.


And that was the man that I loved very, very much.

...he fucked that up today.


It was early, we were all tired admittedly, but there are no excuses and he crossed a line. You know we were only discussing where to go next? We were just talking like normal and then Lissie interrupts him without thinking and all of a sudden there's a loud smack of a noise and Lissie's crying and covering her just barely recovering face and his fucking eyes were all wrong. He just wasn't him. The Blake I know could hardly harm a fly, and Lissie? Oh that's several steps beyond a fly.


The very first thing I did was pull her behind me and clarify very specifically that he had indeed crossed a goddamn line and he would not be travelling with us or even me whilst he was still behaving badly. And under no circumstances will I change that. No, while Blake is behaving irrationally and angrily and badly he will not be in Lissie's, and thereby my, company.


I don't think I've glared that hard since... well since Micheal, but before that since High School.


We left then. It was deceptively easy. Our things were already packed and we had everything in the truck. We just threw him his two bags and booked it. Drove for like 6 hours before we even stopped for the lady's room break. Food was take-out and unhealthy, I'm surprised we both managed to keep any food down considering things though.


I didn't even kiss him goodbye. I just walked out. I didn't know... I could do that.


I'm not going to lie, this stings, it stings a lot. Like when little angry bumblebees are buzzing about you because you're their flower and you won't yield any pollen, and then they're dropping dead around you because of all the teeny tiny angry pokes at your skin. It hurts like that. And hundreds of little bees leaving their venom inside of you makes you tired, drowsy, sick, nervous, wishing for the perfect antidote. I guess victims of angry bees are lucky that an antidote exists at all aren't they?


I, however, am not so lucky am I? It's okay. I'll survive. It's what I do after all.


I'm tired now.


'Oh god, now when's the time for me?
Oh, when will you see me through?
Oh god, mind is eating my heart out
Oh god, my heart is beating my mind out.
Oh god I can't believe in you
Just because I'm afraid you're true.'
-Ida Maria, "See Me Through"

Okey-dokey, then. - Marie

I have an account now, I guess.

Apparently, with someone posting in the comments anonymously, she thinks it'd be better if she can keep track of my stuff on the blog better.

Something like that.

I'll be glad when Tia gets here, to be completely honest.

Partially because things are worse than Elisa's been letting on.

As I said before, she's been trying not to let it show how much things are getting to her.

She threw out her red paint because she said it smelled like old blood.

Admittedly, it smelled really off.

She hasn't gone to work at the thrift store since she called in the other day.

And she's not eating.

She says that she just feels sick every time she gets food in her stomach.

I'm not letting her hide when her anxiety gets the better of her, though.

She's trying to be strong, and maybe in all the wrong ways, because it's just going to eat away at her.

This is dumb.

Tia will be able to talk to her better about these things than I will, once she's done wondering if Elisa's off her rocker more than usual.

Which she could be just a bit, considering what's going on.

We've decided to stay away from may parents place right now.

It's weird, because they knew something was up with Jared, but it's been six years since he died, and there's been nothing around the house since then.

-Marie