Journal

not ready to make nice

my friends from high school married their hs bf's moved into houses in the same zip code where their parents live....but i... i could never follow..... i hit the high way in a pink rv with stars on the ceiling....lived like a gyspy.. I always found my way somehow by taking the long way. ---dixie chicks...

No I could never follow....
Its been two long years now since the top of the world came crashing down.

These words speak to me, they are so simple yet hauntingly similar to my life. I met myself, found myself and started to define myself over these past couple years. I was a pain in the ass when I started this self centered little journal. I've grown so much yet sometimes like tonight I feel like there is so much that I still need to learn. In some ways I am more secure in myself and in others I am more insecure.
I still live with my boyfriend of now two years, Will. I love him dearly, he is my best friend. We have our ups and downs but so far so good. I'm going into my 3rd year at a major university and I love it. I don't know what my future holds but I'm confident, at the end of this I should have a B.S. in Family Studies and Human Dev. yay grad school!!!!
Will and I are from different backgrounds and sometimes like tonight it rubs us the wrong way.
He seems to think I lived a much rosier childhood then I did. Just because he met me while I was living in a small WHITE conservative town in a decent house doesn't make that a good refection of the previous EIGHTEEN years of my life. Odd, he seems to take my experiences for face value whereas I feel like I am considerate of his background. He grew up in a 'troubled' family. His parents were poor and addicted to drugs, he moved around a lot and there was very little that was stable in his early life. Whereas I had pretty great parents who tried to make me see the best in other people and motivate me to help others. He understands that part, what he doesn't understand is that I had a complex childhood. I grew up on two Indian reservations in the midst of poverty, drug addiction, domestic violence, depression and alcoholism. I have seen people kill themselves and wives and children cower while being beaten or stalked by angry men.
We started our discussion tonight by talking about people who come into my job, I'm a waitress at a corporate rest. which is a partner with d.a.r.e. sometimes kids come in with little free meal slips for completing some kind of dare training or something. I made a comment about how these children always seem to be with uppermiddle class familes. He replied that drug addiciton happens everywhere so why shouldn't these young kids get educated about the dangers of drugs.... I conceded that yes their education was important but i felt like "at risk" children should receive more education and support. He disagreed and we kind of butted heads. Then we moved on somehow to a discussion about meth and whatnot, I explained that before about 5 years ago I had never really heard about meth. He replied in a way which i feel was rather condescending. He said that it has been around for a long time (which I knew...duh...50's housewives on speed ect.) and "just because you lived in a happy little mountain town" and "wasn't exposed to meth" doesn't mean it does exist. That's what set me off. I did NOT grow up in some happy little mormon town. That's just where HE met me. I had lived there two ish years out of the 18 of my life at that point. Fuck. I lived next to several drug dealers, I don't even want to know how many people from my original class on the rez are still alive, not preg or with a child, not alcoholics/drug addicts. I promise this "at risk" group got their name for a freaking reason. I remember some drug education but ugh. I'm tired. its two am. good night