My grandma went from widowed and lonely to having a grandchild living with her. It was our small dog, “Missie”, Xavier (who she had fallen in love with immediately) and I. My life there was very peaceful because of this.
There was no punishment, no chores, I wasn’t forced to go to church, I rarely had any limitations. Curfew on the weekends (before I turned 18) was twelve, weekdays was ten. She only expected me to walk Missie (who I absolutely love), cook now and then (a skill I love) and to keep my room decent. If she thought I was going out too often, I had company over.
X had bought a car and would drive the 25-30 min back and forth almost every day. I was so content with waking up and falling asleep next to him – being the first thing he looked at and the last. Whenever he didn’t feel like driving back or if I just wanted him there, he came and stayed; Sometimes weeks at a time. He helped out around the house too: Shopping for food for the house if my grandma just didn’t have it, fixing this, moving that. He was an overall pleasant addition to the house. My grandma and him both smoked (unlike me) so they often shared a pack or he made sure she was stocked on her brand. He took us out, came to family functions, joined us in games and for holidays… eventually he met all sides of my family. In fact, he was a part of it.
And if his mom didn’t like him being so far from his home, I stayed over there… with her and his twin brother and whatever friends that wanted to hang out.
Xavier graduated from our high school the year before I did and he was going to the college his mother worked at. However, he struggled in class and in finding/keeping a job. Though I had a small job at a hair salon and tried to help and support as much as I could… I saw by virtue of his exertion that life outside of high school wouldn’t be as I initially believed. I knew I had to do something more with my life, and this resolution meant that I would have to leave the state.
My family and friends encouraged the life decision including X. Realizing that soon, we would be separated for months at a time only made us cherish our time together (similar to when I was living with my father.) In fact, that realization brought us closer.
In February of this year, he proposed. It wasn’t like the movies or the videos you see on Facebook where he sings or gets all of his friends together in this big, hackneyed presentation with music in the background and flowers and applause as he got on one knee. Neither him or I are… like that. It was in his basement and (though random) it was as normal as a kiss. And I knew he had gotten a ring because he’d presented me with a few choices beforehand. I just didn’t know when he was going to… you know, give it to me. It was real yellow gold and two linked gems; Ruby and Aquamarine (our birthstones) accompanied by small diamonds. He proposed in his own natural, slightly awkward yet cute way. And I still said yes.Then we proceeded to play pool, or chess or a video game that he’d introduced me to.
I’d already bought him an inscription finished steel ring with a “trippy” design that he loved. The original intention was to give him a promise ring, but I just changed the purpose and gave it to him a couple of weeks later. It was so original that when he lost it multiple months later (under circumstances I’ll further explain another time) I couldn’t find it again.
But things got rough. Xavier couldn’t provide for two houses forever and my grandma was living off of social security checks. And with all of the extra space and the constant repairs that needed to be made she decided it best to just move out of that thirty year old house. And during that move, she decided it best that I move in with X until things were more stable. His mom didn’t mind and so for over a month before I left the state, I was living with my fiance.
Six months turned to over a year, which turned into almost two years. Unfortunately, we didn’t make it to that anniversary.