It has been a very busy couple weeks with work and my personal life. Sorry to keep you hanging for so long. I will try to be better.
After my last post, I had a talk with my Dad. He mentioned how he remembered finding out about my 3rd pregnancy and how he remembers his reactions completely different than what I posted. Mostly that I downplayed his reaction. He told me I can tell it like it was. And he was furious. So furious in fact, he punched a hole in a wall. Mind you, I had never once heard my Dad yell. Apparently he had yelled at my older brother once or twice, but I wasn’t around to hear it. He yelled at me. He doesn’t get angry. And for those that know him, know he isn’t a yeller. He is a thinker and a discusser. Not a yeller. I was scared he would never want to talk to me again. Never want anything to do with me again.
I am happy to say, He hasn’t yelled at me since. He hasn’t lost his temper towards me since. He is very good at keeping control, but apparently I knew how to make him lose his temper. I try very hard to not do it anymore.
So back to the story.
George and I found a one bedroom apartment. We had our lease signed. I felt I finally had a home and was excited to finally have a place to call ours. In my perverse bubble we were going to live happily ever after. He was going to change and be around and responsible. And we would have our baby. Moving day was around the corner.
George took me to a small party with some of his friends one evening (in a run down house in a bad part of town). Everyone there was drinking and having a good time. I of course was not. So George had his designated driver. One of the party goers pulled out some mushrooms. Everyone started taking them, again, except me. I was stone cold sober in a room full of drunk and high people. Loads of fun. George was finally ready to leave (after what seemed like 123 hours), I couldn’t be happier to get out of that place. Not the type of people I like to hang around. There was something about this group of people that had me uneasy. Even with all the bad decisions I made, I still had my instincts.
Later George told me that he took me to that party as a test. A test to see how I would react to him doing those sorts of things. I have nothing against people that choose to do that stuff. I have smoked marijuana before. But I have never gone beyond that. I was always too scared to experiment (apparently the D.A.R.E program in elementary school really did teach me something). I wasn’t going to tell George what he could and couldn’t do. I am not that kind of person. That is what he was trying to see, if he could push the limits on what I would do for him. In this case, hang out at a party while he drank and did mushrooms, all while ensuring he had a safe way home.