porter_inc: (goof)
I've had this journal for a year (yesterday). When I started it, I wasn't sure that I'd keep it for long. Sandy was the one who convinced me to get it, and I'm glad I did. I've met some great friends through it, and I've met the love of my life. I'm confident that the next year is going to bring more wonderful things.

The 9th is going to be a year since I joined that writing community. It's been pretty neat and I've actually responded to every writing prompt every week, plus a few old ones.

Most importantly, the 1st marked six months since the very first time I kissed my beautiful boy.
porter_inc: (slight smile)
Here, in no particular order, is a list of the best parties I've ever attended:

- Orlando's 30th birthday (can I list this if I helped organize it? Who cares, it's probably the best party I've been to.)

- A frat party my freshman year (the name of the frat escapes me) where I received my first... Where I was pleasured orally for the first time. Funny how something that's over so quickly can leave such a lasting impression. I remember nothing else about that girl but bubblegum pink lipstick.

- My 14th birthday. Dad was out of town and Mom let me have Pete over to spend the night. All we did was listen to music, watch TV (Mom rented us a VCR and some movies) and eat a lot of junk food, but it was awesome. It might not technically count as a party since it was only my best friend, me and Mom, but it was definitely one of my better birthday celebrations.

And now for the worst:

- My wedding reception. I don't have enough time to list the reasons why this rates as one of the worst, but I'm sure you can figure them out.

- Every Christmas party I ever had to attend for work. As much fun as it sounds to be trapped under the mistletoe by drunken female colleagues or the drunken wives of colleagues, it was mainly awkward and did nothing to raise my level of Christmas cheer.

- Every fundraiser/benefit/begging for dollars type thing I attended as a representative of Hamilton-Fairhaven.

- Another frat party later in my freshman year where my shoes were mistaken for a toilet and some poor girl yakked all over them.
porter_inc: (scruffy)
I'm disappointed that things didn't work out with me and Peter. Before I say anything else, let me qualify that by saying that I couldn't be happier with my life, now. But every now and then I think about Pete and feel a little wistful.

I suppose the main reason I'm disappointed that I'm not going to be Mr. Peter Cavanaugh, one day, is because it felt as if we were destined to be together. Look at our relationship. It's got all the elements of a happy ever after.

We met when we were 11 years old and were both sent to the principal's office. An instant friendship was formed and we became inseparable. Over the years, the friendship grew even stronger. We supported each other through everything. He became the most important figure in my life besides my mother and was the only one who knew how to make me feel better about anything. We loved each other in that way that close friends do.

Peter made no secret of the fact that he's gay. In high school, he didn't date anyone, and while he never came right out and said that he was interested in guys, somehow I just knew. There were a couple of drunken incidents between us, things I denied for my own reasons, but he never let that affect our friendship. Rather, he never let my rejection of them, or him, really, affect things between us.

The drama came during college. When Peter found out I was getting married, he confronted me about denying my own sexuality and tried to convince me not to go through with the wedding. He kissed me, and it was my reaction to it that made me realize I needed to shut him out of my life. I couldn't be with him. I had to marry the woman carrying my baby and prove to my father that I wasn't what he thought I was, end of story. I kept track of Pete through my mom because she wasn't willing to cut him out of her life just because I was angry with him. But, really, I was never angry with him.

When I received word that Peter's lover of seven years had been killed, I couldn't ignore that. The news had shocked me into action, reminding me that life was too short to hold onto grudges that shouldn't have existed in the first place. That's why I went to the funeral to see him.

We talked. A lot. We caught up on each other's lives and cleared the air about what had happened. He met Talia, he came over to spend time with us, we took the dogs for their run together. Just when it looked as if I had my best friend back, he told me that he could see how unhappy I was and he couldn't stand it. And when he kissed me, I didn't push him away.

Our affair was one of the most incredible, exciting, satisfying things I've ever experienced. I'm the one who insisted on keeping it a secret instead of being honest with Talia. It was unfair to both her and Peter, but I couldn't bear the thought of a divorce. He didn't fight me on it. I think he was still dealing with the grief over losing Kory, so we were both getting what we needed and wanted from the relationship.

Then Talia caught us. The shame and guilt I felt would have been unbearable if not for Peter. Same thing for the divorce. He stood by my side, unwavering, loving me throughout all of it and when we were finally free to be together... It didn't happen.

The both of us tried, we really did. But I told him that I didn't want to lose him as my friend if we ever broke up. He told me that we'd never break up so it was a moot point, but I didn't have his faith in my ability to settle down with him. We ended things and agreed to be the best of friends. In fact, we'd made a promise to one another that we'd always be first in each other's lives no matter what other relationships we had. That included a physical relationship. I abided by that, too, until Orlando.

But after all those years and all that drama, when everything should have had a happy ending and Peter and I should have ended up living happily ever after, I ended things for fear of getting my heart broken. It seems kind of silly now.
porter_inc: (side)
The phone rang just as Will was finishing up the editing on one of his short stories. He answered it before the second ring and pushed back from the desk so he could pick up Blade and put him on his lap.

"Hello?" he said, reaching down for Wendell and putting the smaller dog on his desk. They'd both been clamoring for his attention all morning.

"Will Porter, please," said a pleasant female voice on the other end of the line.

"Speaking," Will said, scratching Wendell behind his ears.

"Hi, Will, this is Gayle Brighton."

"Ms. Brighton," Will smiled. It was the assistant editor for the magazine that had hired him. "How are you?"

"To be honest, I'd be doing better if we had an article from you."

That made him pause, and he put the dogs back on the ground. "I'm sorry?"

"You were hired in November," she said, "with the understanding that you would submit an article once a month for publication. So far, we've received nothing. Now, we understand that--"

"Wait a minute," Will said, cutting her off. "I was told I would be working as a freelance writer and I would be paid by the article. I didn't sign a contract with you stating anything about a deadline."

"So, you thought that we would hire you and you could just write something whenever you felt like it?"


"Will, making you freelance meant we wouldn't have to pay you the salary of a staff writer. But... Who talked to you about it?"

"I got a letter from Steve Waterman and he's the one I called."

"Great," Gayle sighed. "Steve was fired last week, but he assured us that he'd explained the terms to you. I'm afraid I'll have no choice but to terminate our association with you, Will. Sorry."

Will blinked and sat back in his chair. "Wait a minute. He didn't tell me, Ms. Brighton. I don't care what he said he told you."

"Did you read the letter of intent we sent you? Or any of the inquiries? What exactly were you waiting for? An engraved invitation to submit your work?"

"I..." Will started rifling through the papers on the desk. He was sure that he'd put away the letters they'd sent him. The letters he hadn't opened because he'd been told by Steve Waterman that they would be sending him paperwork to fill out when he was ready to submit his first article. Will should have known better than to assume he wouldn't have to open them and see for himself what they contained. "Ms. Brighton," he said softly, knowing he had no one to blame for this but himself, "I've been a little distracted. I've recently moved, proposed to my boyfriend, found out that I have a long lost sister and helped impregnate one of my lesbian friends so she and her girlfriend can have a baby."

There was a lengthy pause, then a sigh. "Usually, writers only pull out one excuse from their bag of tricks to explain why they fucked up. But you've got a handful there, don't you, Will?"

"Okay, Gayle, there's no need to be rude," Will said, doing his best to hold his tongue but failing. "They're not excuses. It's my life."

"Is that right? Sounds like maybe you've got too much of a life to work for this magazine."

"Oh, really? Well, maybe I'm better off not working for some no name magazine that will probably go belly up this year."

"Mr. Porter, you are not making a good--"

"And, you know what? If you were running any kind of real publication, someone there would have picked up a fucking phone and called me or sent me an email. Or, even better, not hired some moron who can't do his fucking job right."

"Well, I'm making sure not to make that mistake twice, Mr. Porter," Gayle spat. "Consider yourself fired."

Will slammed the phone down before she could hang up on him. He stared at the unopened envelopes on the desk, then grabbed them and ripped them up before throwing them on the floor. Blade whimpered and hit Will's leg with his paw, his eyes wide as he stared up at his master. Wendell had run to hide under the small sofa in the room when the yelling had started.

Sighing, Will leaned down to pick up the papillon. "I need a job," he said softly, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He kissed Blade's head. "Got any leads?"
porter_inc: (blue filter)
The Morning After

That's a song by Maureen McGovern from The Poseidon Adventure. It won an Oscar for Best Song and became a hit the summer after I was born. Much like Eric Cartman from South Park, I know the whole song and can sing it for you any time you'd like to hear my butchered rendition. Mom used to play it so much when I was growing up, I didn't really have much choice but to learn it by heart.

When I was 10, I asked Mom why she listened to it so often, and she told me that if I really listened to the words, I'd find hope in them. The moment I did that, I understood. Mom clung to that song the way I used to cling to my favorite teddy bear - the one with the missing eye and torn ear I'd never let her fix. It was her comfort whenever my father would dole out his "punishment." The mornings he would leave for work and I would have to get myself off to school, I knew it was because he'd been too rough with her the night before. I could hear the muted strains of the song coming from their room, and if I pressed my ear to the door, I could hear Mom crying. She never wanted me to see her cry, so I would leave without saying goodbye. I knew that she would be having a particularly bad day if I still heard the song playing when I came home. On those days, I would go into her room and curl up on the bed next to her. We wouldn't ever talk about it, and we would always be up and have dinner ready before Dad came home.

When I got married, the one thing I insisted on was that the song Mom and I danced to be The Morning After. No one understood why we hadn't chosen a more traditional song for the occasion, and Talia continued to voice her displeasure long after the reception had ended. I never felt the need to explain myself to her, though.

The day Dad died, I left work and rushed home to be with Mom. Dad had suffered a massive coronary while he was changing a light bulb in the hall closet. It had been quick, and no manner of life saving measures would have saved him. He was probably dead before he hit the ground, they said. When I arrived at the house, the coroner had just left, and Mom was sitting in the living room, a glass of Dad's favorite scotch in her hand. She asked me to play that song for her, and for the first time in my life, when I looked at her face as it played, I saw hope.
porter_inc: (wokiss)
I know this will come as a shock to my friends and loved ones, because I've been so hush hush about my personal life lately. But, in the upcoming year, I hope to marry Orlando. I know! Shhhh...

I've been married before, so it's not the marriage part that's going to be new. I've been with Orlando for a few months now, so I don't get to say I've never done him before (although 2007 is going to be such a lovefest, I'm very happy we're in good shape and so bendy). Combine those two things, though, and I am one happy, happy man. Happier than I already am. Yes, that is possible!

I've had boyfriends, but I haven't wanted to marry them. I've had girlfriends, and the one I married... I'll stop right there. But I've never married Orlando before! I've hit the jackpot here, and for the first time in my life, I am ready to enter into a union with a person I love with all my heart.

I cannot wait for 2007. Not only is my sweetheart turning 30, but he's going to stand up in front of God and everybody and promise to love me for better or worse, 'til death do us part. And? I get to do the same thing! Then, once it's done, we are going to be together forever and ever. When we're little old men holding hands while we walk down the street to our favorite morning coffee place, I want people to look at us and think, "Wow, I wonder how long they've been together. What's their secret? They not only look really happy, but they're stunning physical specimens who must have been outrageously hot when they were younger!"

More than anything, I hope that I can accomplish one thing in 2007 that I have most definitely never done before. I hope to be a good husband.
porter_inc: (little smile)
Christmas 1997

Will had only been working at Hamilton-Fairhaven for a little over two months when the annual office Christmas party rolled around in all its brandy-laced glory. As the newest member of the staff, Will found it difficult to settle in and enjoy himself, though. Since day one, there had been some resentment from his co-workers due to the fact that he had been guaranteed a job straight out of grad school simply because his father was very good friends with the Hamilton of Hamilton-Fairhaven. No one seemed to care that Will was under even more pressure to prove himself because his father was his direct superior and held higher standards for him than any other employee at the bank. Still, Will had come to the party, Talia at his side, out of duty to his dad and his employer. As expected, he'd been snubbed by everyone he'd seen so far, while his father was treated like a conquering hero. Granted, Tobias Porter had the power to fire any one of them if they pissed him off, so much of it could have been ass kissing. Will just wondered why no one was even interested in his ass, let alone willing to kiss it. He blinked at that thought, then shook his head, just happy he hadn't said it out loud.
Read more... )
porter_inc: (bw thinking profile)
This is hard because my worst quality depends on which significant other (former significant other, I should say) I was with at the time.
Read more... )
porter_inc: (hands)
My current relationship has been so intense and wonderful, I find that most everything I talk or think about is related to it in some way. With that said, this is going to be a very obvious response because I'm feeling a bit obvious today.

My feelings for Orlando run much deeper than I think anyone outside of our relationship realizes. I resent the hell out of the fact that "society" won't acknowledge that we can love one another just as passionately and with as much devotion as a man and a woman. Yes, there are certain places where we're accepted, but if you go to Anyplace, Middle America and ask Joe Schmo his opinion on gay couples, that opinion will be negative. The proof is in the fact that so many in this country have gone out of their way to be actively anti-gay when they vote. Why are our futures being legislated by strangers who believe we're evil and belong in Hell? Why are we the last group left where it's okay to hate us and deny us basic rights? It's disheartening and sometimes makes it difficult to focus on the victories and strides that have been made. It's easy for some to brush it off as simply "ignorant opinions" or think that it's just "their problem" if they don't like how we live. But it isn't just their problem. If a man is denied access to his hospitalized lover because he's not "family," it's my problem. If a man is beaten to death because he's gay and society perpetuates the hatred that could lead to something so vicious, it's my problem. For all the self-congratulatory discussions we've had about not believing in sexual labels and finding them pointless and oh-so-gauche, the truth of the matter is they exist, whether we like it or not. The society around us, the world outside of the happy little bubble we live in, slaps the labels on us and we can pretend it doesn't happen until we're blue in the face. It doesn't change the fact that it's the truth.

This is why the one thing I'd change about society would be to make someone's sexuality completely and blessedly moot.
porter_inc: (shadow)
I could never understand it when my friends would tell me how jealous they'd get if their girlfriends spent time with other guys. What seemed even more ridiculous to me was why anyone would get jealous if someone found their partner attractive. It had always been my contention that if you loved someone, you trusted them. That meant that you would know nothing would ever happen between them and someone else, thus ridding you of any reason to be jealous.

That's the way I used to think. My past relationships never caused me to even raise an eyebrow if my partner would spend time with someone else, or if they wanted to bring other people into our bed. I thought of myself as liberal and a free spirit, and I never expected that to change.

It's changed.

Love will change it. True love will change it. I have fallen in true love for possibly the first time in my life and that little green monster has taken full time residence in my head. It can show itself in any situation from the imagined to the very real. It's a feeling that makes me want to hide my lover away so no one else even thinks about having him in any way. He's mine, and if anyone even looks at him, sometimes I want to tear their eyes out. Mind you, there's a difference between general admiration or appreciation from some people and very specific wanting from others. The former is kind of a turn on, in a weird way. I have to admit that I like the idea of strangers, or near strangers, wanting him because I know they'll never have him. It's the latter that kills me.

It's a bit disturbing to feel this way. I don't know if it's normal. I have no frame of reference for this sort of thing. All I know is that my jealousy has nothing to do with how much I trust Orlando. I trust him implicitly. It's more... It's almost as if I don't want to share what's mine with anyone who has no business wanting him.

I'm working on it because I don't want to end up being some unreasonable man who can't let his lover out of his sight. Maybe I just have to get used to these feelings and deal with them on my own. Or, maybe it's just like a friend said: If we love someone, we go temporarily insane at the thought of them being with someone else.

Actually, that just about sums it up. I still think I need to fight the urge to jump in and tell people to back off when I feel they've crossed a line, though.
porter_inc: (Mom)
Inez Porter's birthday was coming up in three days. The plans for her birthday party had been made, his friends Ann and Helene leading the charge. The party would be on the Saturday following the actual day, and as originally thought, it was going to be a day spent with her female friends. Will wanted his mom to have a good time with her friends and not worry about being "mom" if he was hanging out getting his cheeks pinched by all the ladies.

For her actual birthday, Will had decided that instead of taking her out for a dinner with Orlando and Peter, the two of them would go out on a date so she could have him all to herself. She hadn't said anything to him, but he could tell that there were times when she missed him having more time for her. This year, he wanted to do whatever he could to show her just how much she meant to him.

Their plans would include a lovely dinner at one of her favorite restaurants, a little shopping, and tickets to see The Nutcracker in New York. Ever since Will could remember, his mother had adored that ballet. Some of his fondest childhood memories were of curling up on the couch with her and watching the annual public television broadcast. He would watch her face, taken with how enchanted she looked, and then settle in to enjoy the rest of the program because it made his mom so happy.

The years Inez was married to Tobias Porter were difficult ones. Her husband never saw any point in treating her with respect, never mind taking her out for things as trivial as the ballet. Will had grown up watching his mother sacrifice so much for both her son and her husband, asking for nothing in return except the chance to see something she loved so much in person. Every year, she received the same answer from Tobias: "It's on TV. Can't you just watch it there?"

Will had married young, and because his wife didn't want to spend the holidays with his family, he had never been able to do everything he had wanted with his mother around that time of year. But all of that would change this year. This year would be the first time in a long time that he would be able to sit next to his mom and watch her face as dancers brought a much beloved story to life. Instead of it being a grainy picture on the television set in their living room, though, it would be the vibrant wonder of sitting in an audience, seeing it the way she had wanted for so long. Thanks to Peter making a few calls, Inez would even have the opportunity for a meet and greet with the dancers after the show. Will hoped that everything would make it a birthday memory his mother would treasure. More than that, he hoped that it would be the start of a new holiday tradition for them both.
porter_inc: (hand in shirt)
Daybreak, September 2, 2006

Will leaned against the window, watching as the night sky began to slowly give way to the intrusion of morning. Never had he thought of a sunrise as anything but beautiful, but this one was an unwelcome sight. The warm red and orange glow only served to remind him that a beautiful night was ending and a new day was starting. He had wanted this night to last forever, wanted to savor every moment of it and never let it end for fear that he would never have anything as wonderful again.

He touched his fingers to his lips, still able to feel the warmth of sweet, stolen kisses there. His heart raced at the memory of frantic fumbling in the dark, and he couldn't help smiling at how giddy the guilty pleasure of having something he shouldn't made him feel. And that was the real problem, wasn't it? Orlando was a forbidden pleasure, something that should have been off limits. Will was in a relationship and that should have been enough to make him keep his hands to himself. But from the moment he had opened the door of his hotel room to see Orlando standing there, he'd wanted him. Spending time with him, talking and laughing with him, and finding him to be as kind and charming as he was beautiful had only made things worse. No, not worse. All of that had only made things so much better, letting Will know that he wasn't only being swayed by a handsome face. It was why Will hadn't thought twice about stealing away with him for those few precious moments and why he couldn't stop wishing things were different.

They had parted ways with a kiss outside of their rooms, both of them understanding that it would be better not to take any chances by spending the night together. Once Will was alone in his room he had known he wouldn't be able to sleep, so he'd gone to stand by the window, trying to will the world to stop turning. As the sun crept into the sky to reveal the gorgeous landscape, Will knew that he was as helpless to hold back the new day as he was to stop thinking about how much he wanted the other man. Right now Orlando was just on the other side of the wall, but he may as well have been a million miles away. The sunrise had brought with it the understanding that Will couldn't have what he wanted - neither of them was really available - so he would have to take whatever he could and treasure it.

As he sighed and turned to finally go to bed, heart heavy, Will wondered if he would ever look at a sunrise the same way again.
porter_inc: (fic2)
I've taken a lot of road trips in my time. There were the obligatory trips when I was a kid to see friends of the parents all over New England, and the occasional trip to major theme parks when Dad was feeling on top of his game and left enough vacation time for something more than those horrendous camping trips. In college, Pete and I took a road trip when he convinced me to drive up to Hartford with him for spring break. It was a lot of fun, it was annoying, it was too short, too long in parts, but ended up being the second best road trip of my life.

The best one? It hasn't happened yet.

When I was little, I used to sit down with my dad's atlas and look at the maps of each state in America. I don't know why I was so obsessed with that book, but I loved those maps. I loved the shapes of the states and the red stars that marked each capital. I loved tracing the major freeways from one point to another, seeing which states each would cross and vowing that one day I would see every state I could by car. Maybe all of Dad's rants about how the people of the nation needed to embrace their country rubbed off on me and gave me this desire to see every bit of it that I could.

I haven't done it yet. I don't know if I ever will. My life's going to get pretty busy soon once I start my new job, but I'm hoping that before I die, I can jump in a car with my sweetie and see the entire country. I even want to drive up to Alaska. As for Hawaii, well, besides the fact that it can't officially be part of a road trip, I'm not sure I'd want to go there for reasons a little too personal to mention here.
porter_inc: (fic2)
As anyone who knows me is aware, the reason I married Talia was because she was pregnant.

Read more... )
porter_inc: (fic2)
I'm a white male who was born in the 20th century to a middle class family. I think my predetermined role in soceity was pretty much to grow up and be one of the faceless masses. Dad was a banker who worked for one company all his life. Mom was a housewife, though I guess the preferred term is homemaker or domestic engineer. Personally, I like thinking of Mom as the Captain of our family ship. Dad may have brought home the paycheck, but Mom kept us afloat.

I followed in Dad's footsteps, became a banker, got married, bought a house, and did everything else I was expected to do. (I probably would have had three kids if Talia had been able to get pregnant after her miscarriage.) I was in danger of fulfilling my destiny of being nothing more than a boring old cog with a boring old life. I think I would have been extremely disappointed if that's the way my life ended. I'd have been on my death bed wishing that I'd done something more, or lived my life for myself.

Thankfully, I'm getting to do that now. There's nothing like being free to be myself to make me think that just maybe my predetermined role in society was simply to be one of the happy people. I know we're annoying, but without us the people born to look down on others wouldn't have anything to do!
porter_inc: (fic)
There are days Will feels as if he can't breathe, as if the walls are closing in on him and he'll be crushed at any moment. Sometimes it's all too much to take. There's too much bullshit, too many opinions, too many thoughts. He knows that if he can run away, everything will be better. But he can't run so he closes his eyes and thinks about where he wants to be at that very moment. It's always the same place - with the one person who matters the most to him.

There are nights when he can't sleep and he dreams about being trapped in a cold, dark place. There's always a light ahead of him but no matter how far or fast he runs, he can't reach it. Sometimes he's being chased. It can be any number of faceless strangers, shrieking out their angry accusations, and he's desperate to find his lover and make sure they haven't gotten to him somehow. Other nights, when he looks behind him, he sees that Kevin is the one chasing him. Before he can escape, Kevin's on top of him and Will knows he's never going to get away. He wakes up, sweating and shaking, still able to feel Kevin inside him. Sometimes he's afraid to move because he knows Kevin will hurt him if he does.

It's the warmth of another body next to his that calms and soothes him, bringing him back from his nightmare when he remembers where he is and who's lying next to him. His lover's arms are around him, offering a comfort he knows he wouldn't be able to find anywhere else. Slow, steady breathing tickles the hair on the back of his neck, and he tries to slow down his own breathing to match its rhythm. In that moment, he would force his heart to beat in time with the other man's if he could.

Moving carefully, Will turns in his lover's arms so that he can face him. He keeps still when Orli stirs, waiting to see if he'll awaken. When he doesn't, Will relaxes and gently touches his face. He owes this man his life, plain and simple. The nightmare brings that home to him. As beautiful as he is, both inside and outside, nothing compares to the memory of Will seeing the depth of his courage. In that instant, that flash of gunfire, Will had known that everything was going to be okay. No matter who he might dream is chasing him, no matter how trapped or cornered he might feel in those moments of anxiety, he knows that once he's with this man everything will be all right. Perhaps it's too much of a burden to place on anyone, but Will can't help feeling that Orli can make everything good and safe in his life.

His eyelids grow heavy, and Will snuggles closer so he can tuck his head under Orlando's chin. He concentrates on the breathing again, inhaling the warm, sensual scent of him until he finally drifts off to a deep, peaceful sleep. This time, when he dreams, his lover is by his side in the cold, dark place, and they begin walking towards the light together, hand in hand. When they reach it, there's nothing more than peace and quiet waiting for them.
porter_inc: (fic2)
I don't know very much about my ancestors, other than the fact that some of them on my Mom's side are from Scotland. Mom told me that when I was little, and ever since then I've had this dream of moving out there, getting a little cottage somewhere and writing stories about... Well, about whatever I'd be inspired by. Mind you, all of this planning was made without me ever actually going there. The only things I knew about Scotland were what I'd seen in travel and history books. (I did finally get a chance to go at the end of August, and while I never looked up any family, I did make the discovery of a lifetime.)

My ancestors on Dad's side are a little more mysterious to me. Frankly, if they were anything like him, I'm perfectly fine with letting them stay a mystery. My guess, though? Huns.
porter_inc: (fic2)
There are a lot of things that keep me up at night. I worry about the people I love and try to think of everything I can do to make sure they're safe and cared for. Every now and then I think about my dad and wonder what he'd think of my life now. No, I know what he'd think, but I wonder how he'd handle it. I also say a prayer every night that Talia will get married so I can stop paying her alimony. I found out that she's the one who tipped off the papers about me, so that keeps me up, too. I usually alternate between cursing her and trying to think of ways to pay her back. I should stop that.
Read more... )
porter_inc: (fic2)
Growing up, I always thought of summer as something to be endured. That was the time of year my father got it into his head that we were going to be a good family and go on vacation together. This would serve two purposes: A change of scenery and a chance to "bond" with me. What usually ended up happening, though, was the huge road trip got cancelled or drastically scaled back and we'd end up going camping. Mom would usually go with us, but occasionally I'd be alone with the old man. Those weren't good trips. It got to the point where I dreaded the last day of school the way every other kid dreaded the first. Summers meant anxiously waiting for that damn camping trip to be sprung on me.
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