Tomorrow

He is looking at models on his phone. He is laying beside me and looking. He looks at them like a computer. He looks at everything -calculated and precise. He gives little room for errror. He looks and looks and then he finds the one. The perfect match.

She is a model, 23 yrs old. She has sun-kissed brown skin like me. She has his tired eyes, my nose,  his forehead and my almond shape face. She is tall and thin like him.

He turns to me, smiles and says this is her.

Who is she?

A model.

I hope you are not asking to look like her because it’s not happening. Plus I can’t grow any taller.

Lol, no fattylicious….she is what are kid would look like..

How long have you been thinking of this?

A while now. It’s a fixation.

In so many ways my workaholic boyfriend says the things I need to hear. He knows all. He is a computer of a man. Luckily, he has humour or we would have faded.

Yet, he is a workaholic. He lives for his first born-his company. I think of what kind of life we have and it’s really warm. However, there are many faint days because his work takes him away so much.

I wonder if I would take our story for granted or he me. I wonder if we can have a family. I wonder what he will think of my little lost family. I have no “dowry” of sorts.  I am a screwup.

He is flawed too, however in an over perfectionist A -type manner. He comes from comfort and unumeral resources. He has it good and he works to keep it so.
I am thinking of my financial woes, student loans and my credit card debt. My ADD way of changing occupation as my mood changes.
My family is broken on a personal level, yet they are mine. I love them. Could he?
Would his mother love me? After all, he’s her baby. Her only family, more or less.

I ask him, how would we survive?

Easy …don’t ever let go.
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Merry, Merry

It is a strange feeling when you travel and return home, excited to see friends and family and seeking some comforts from home.  Seeing  your family and friends they ask about your adventures and how amazing it must be living in another country, especially Italy. You talk and answer questions for a few hours; talking about the splendor yet making them aware of the hardships that surround the ancient world of romance thus ruining the images that films have created of how  “amore filled” adventures cascaded from the sky from the gods.

This is the scene day one and maybe day two afterwards you are you to them again; the only difference you have been somewhere. Then Christmas begins and the real traditions start. And the usually statements begin…….

-“SO…. , no boyfriend yet?

-“when are you going to get married , you’re not young anymore?”

-“You DO like men, RIGHT?”

-“I would think some guy over there would marry you ”

-“well, maybe one day you will meet someone…,,,,,,,hopefully”

-“You DO want children?”

-“well , how do think you will meet a man when you keep running them away”

-“Dress up more”

It goes on and on .

I am an adult yet these moments happen , my parents thankfully are NOT the culprits of this just the rest of the family and some friends ( the- married -and -second- kid- on- the- way-friend) have disapproved of my lack of skills in “capturing” a man.

I feel pressured.

I leave the room, walk away from the conversation, or go for a walk. I hate this part and always will.

I just want to return to Italy now, where this part of my life doesn’t happen. Even though I do want a partner, I have no clue how to “capture” one to the point of marriage  and/or children. I just want some one that will  automatically warm my feet in the winter under the covers.  I am not skilled in the art of seduction or whatever is required now a days to attract a mate.

My family and friends they mean well, it’s their way of showing concern ( I hate it) yet I still love them. This has been the way of expressing concern for centuries.  It is not the best way yet it has made it to 2014 and counting.

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