When i’m dating somebody I measure how much I like them in the measurement of a Zombie apocalypse.
Meaning, if all of a sudden a rampage of the undead came barreling down my block and my first instinct would be to hop on whatever means of transportation I got with a baseball bat, come and get you so we can fight off zombies together because I don’t want anybody eating your brains, I want a relationship with you.
If I let you fend them off by yourself, you eventually get eaten, turn into a zombie, come after me trying to eat my brains and I have no problem going Babe Ruth to your skull, obviously you’re just somebody i’m temporarily having fun with and we have no future. Especially if zombies littered our streets in masses.
So when i’m dating somebody long enough, this is how I decipher when to take the next step. I ask myself, “are they worthy of saving during a zombie apocalypse?” Because i’m not going to risk being eaten by zombies for just anybody.
My nephew has come to the age where he now questions everything. Mainly, our family. He’s noticing we all don’t have the same last names, we don’t look alike, we all speak different languages to each other, we don’t have the same parents, but for some reason, we’re family.
I could tell him that i’m his father and uncles step sister by marriage. That everyone in the family is family by marriage. But we don’t. I don’t. Because I was there when he was first born, I gave him his middle name, I pick him up from karate and even though we’re not blood, he is my nephew and he is family. Regardless if marriage is what brought all of us together.
My brothers and I have never treated each other like step siblings. They take care of me, I take care of them, no questions asked. Thats what family do.
Hopefully my nephew will learn that from us, along with my niece and any future spawns that grow up in the ragtag Escamilla family clan. DNA will never dictate the love we have for one another, and at the end of the day I’ll always be their aunt and my brothers sister. It doesn’t matter that we have different skin colors, nationalities and blood types.
Frankly, I don’t see it getting better tomorrow either. I just want to burrow my head into my pillows, throw the blankets over my body and let the week pass me by.
I hate tonight. I hate tomorrow. And I’ll hate the following day.
I don’t want to be hugged, consoled, motivated or coddled. I just want to throw darts at my wall, kick over my shoes for being assholes and glare at anything in eye contact distance. The arms are crossed, the grumpy has set in.
We can build a fort underneath here. We can bring our books, hold a flashlight between us while we share the same reading light. I’ll intertwine my legs with yours, you can intertwine your fingers through my hair.
I want to read with you, experience you, but first, lets get under my blanket.
With Italy vastly approaching my feet are getting incredibly antsy. I’ve already had one foot out the door ready to bolt from America, a country which I do adore, but I’ve already overstayed my welcome. British Airways keeps teasing me with email notifications each month telling me to prepare for my flight, i’m hoping that the day before my flight out of Washington Dulles they can email me fireworks with confetti. Not asking for too much.
I feel like i’ve been squatting in my own house because everything is already in storage or packed up in boxes at both my parents houses with big bold letters written in sharpie saying, “TOUCH IT AND YOU WILL DIE A HORRIBLE MUGGLE DEATH!” Along with a poorly drawn Slytherin emblem.
I’m excited to be in Venezia. I have no idea what to expect and it could go two ways. Amazingly awesome or horribly wrong. But you know me, I jump without thinking. Already a few glitches have happened between me living in Italy. The cousin that I was going to move in with, well, she’s getting married, moving to Egypt and running her business through partners. Which means when I get over to a country completely alone, i’m going to have to figure out where i’m going to live. Challenge accepted. Thats not stopping me from exploring every ounce of Italy and attempting to capture it all on film. The adventure is worth the unknowing.
I won’t be taking Rufio over with me. Especially since I won’t have my shit together, let alone the internet. I figured I would give myself a three month timeline to see if I can manage to stay a float on my own. I’m pretty adaptable. At least, i think so. But I will send for him as soon as I find stable living conditions. I can’t explore without him after all.
I will say this though. If I can’t survive Italy by any means necessary, I am going home and i’m glad thats my fall back plan. I wasn’t ready to go back to Nagasaki so soon, but I do miss it terribly. So life after November 10th won’t be so bad. I might end up staying in Italy, I might be in Japan. Who knows.