When I get home, I'll just pack. Shouldn't take me that long. I have become a pro at this ever since I met that man and his child. They have turned my life upside down.
I've driven the 45 minutes to Opelika more times than I can count, and happily. Me, the non-driver. Have folks thinking I was a driver all along, not knowing Fluoxetine is the only reason I can ten-and-two and get to the places I need to go.
I done thanked God a dozen or so times for bringing this man into my life. Now, don't get me wrong, he's still a man and flawed. But he loves me out loud. I know that I'm a priority in his life, and he makes me feel safe. All the things I've always wanted.
Doubt does creep in. It says he was searching for anybody and probably anyone would do, but I know that's just the devil talking, mainly because I'm happy. The devil likes me depressed. The devil likes me mourning Mama and missing Mother Dear. The devil likes me to consider myself barren and all alone and practicing my best self-loathing behavior.
I had a dream about a demon with a beard, and months later I met him, and he has a beard. The devil would have me think that was somehow correlated, but I won't believe it. Won't let him rain on my parade. Won't let him win this battle, the battle of my mind.
I just won't...
