I Love Someone In Prison
i've gotten messages on here saying i'm an inspiration. over the past few days i have really put some thought into those words. i'm no stronger than the woman, or man, reading this right now. i have my weak points. i have my moments where i feel like i'll never get through this time. i have seconds and minutes and hours of days where i am mind effin myself up and down. do i make him happy, am i happy, will we make it. will we be okay.. what is it going to be like. it goes on, and i have my moments of clarity, where i realize, yea ofcourse we will be fine. yes i make him happy. yes i am happy with him.
i usually have these moments when i'm laying in bed at night, right before i go to sleep. or when i'm driving, and i'm thinkin of him on my way home. 'talking' to him in my head, thinking of what i'd say to him when i got home if he were there. i usually just write, and ramble. if i make a complete circle i dont know, i treat this as a free write, a way to get things off my chest, and if others read it and gain from it, that's cool i feel very honored, but it's a very selfish thing for me. this road has taught me to be selfish, to reserve some energy for myself, that it is okay to be selfish. so if i get off topic, that's why, i'm rambling, i'm venting, i'm putting to paper my thoughts on how loving someone in prison affects my daily life. how i adjust the way the world perceives me. i had a good long talk with my supervisor today, all good things, but she reminded me, it's all in perception. and to be mindful of what others see. because their perception on you as a human being, is what they go off of. now why she brought that up, is because i have purple hair, piercings, half shaved head, and over 30 tattoos. i wear my doc martens, but i also put the hammer down at work. i hustle on the phone and sell for a living. no i dont call you to sell you anything. you call me. at my job it is very easy for me to become the public punching bag for a very large company. and i have to leave my home life at home. i have to keep the fact that my old man is in prison and act like it doesn't affect me for 11 hours of the day. i tears to be shed. nothing but smiles and a positive attitude, because my appearance isn't helping my perception. but my numbers show my work ten fold. now this perception, doesn't keep me from posting my pictures of my ian at my desk. and if people ask why he is taking a picture in front of razor wire, i tell them the truth. i dont lie, and i will only be honest, if you ask a question, regardless of who you are, i will tell you the truth. it's only when i tell them, oh he's in prison, that's my best friend, my ace duece, my old man, my sick boy, my everything, he is my life. and when the question of, how long, i tell the truth, and then the inevitable, how do you do it. it's very simple.
he is my best friend, first and foremost, and i will not, can not, never will, ever, turn my back on my friends. i'm very loyal, and i will bend over backwards to help my friends. he needed me, and he reached out, so i stood there to help him. and i still stand here. it is more then one side. you see i'm his best friend to. he is my rock, my shoulder. he's my drive, my reason to get out of bed. he is the glue that holds me together. i'm the glue that holds him together. we got each other, day in, day out. that's who we are, we ride for each other. and no it isn't ride or die, or ride til the wheels fall off. it's. just simple. we ride for eachother. we may not feel like gettin out of bed. we may be lower then low. but we hold each other together. i know anytime, of any day. i can sit down, and write my thoughts, like i sit here and write this right now. and he will get it, he will understand it. 100% non judgemental he will hear me out. if i ask for help, he will give me advice, if he asks for help, i will give him advice. it's a give take, an equal partnership. and that's how we made it through this far. he can trust me with his life, and he has. making sure that he has a great home to get out to. making sure that i have built us a new life, away from all the bs meth up in seattle. (our home town). he doesn't have to worry about me spreadin my legs like a slag. because truly, i have no desire to be with any other man than him. i've been tempted, or men have attempted to tempt me away from him, but really it just puts a sour taste in my mouth. layin down with another man, is like adding water to a water based paint, it cheapens the color. and layin down with another would cheapen our relationship. being as open with another, like i am open with him, would be a form of cheating for us too. i dont care if he writes any other women, hell i know he does. but i trust him, because i know, for a fact, none of the other hookers are like me. none of them take care of him. and i know all of them. (they are my girlfriends). they have husbands, they write him, send him post cards and keep him filled with cool **** to look at when i dont have the time to drop him a letter. i know he has mail. and i've heard women who walk this path, ask me, but why allow other women to write. why not. i have no fear. if he really wants to leave me, there is the door. and he knows that. but he doesn't want to leave, so he wont stray. he's my best friend. and he shows me the same loyality i show him. we are the glue that hold each other together, why change something that works so well, that holds everything so tight. why mess any of that up.
and as all this turns into a very very very small point, because it is one of the general basis of having any relationship, but a prison relationship is better, because there is that constant trust issue, that tends to be the root of all fights that i have heard about. he doesn't trust her, or she doesn't trust him. so on, so forth. i guess what really triggered this was a letter i got from him today, with paperwork saying there is another warrant out for his arrest.... a 16 year old warrant from a different state.. yeah really 16 years old.. and as i was reading his sweet nothings and his daily routine and his thoughts, and our constant conversation discussing different plans we both want to make sure are completed before he gets home, he stops and writes and goes.. 'dont trip about that warrant i'm already trying to get it quashed because i'm in federal prison right now, it isn't extraditable, and it isn't on even on my detainer list'.. i sat there, and thought.. that mofo does he not know me better.. i wouldn't trip on him for that. his past is just that.. his past.. i'm no nun. but his past, naw i'd never get upset.. because i trust him to be able to handle his own ish and get home to me as soon as possible. i didn't call the court house to tell them he was in prison. i didn't call his lawyer. nope. i just let it be. because i trust him. he is my glue, he wouldn't weaken us for anything. and this lil warrant is the least of our concerns. hell i'm more intrigued by the pool my friends have going on about how long until he gets home before i'm pregnant with a lil baby viking. (he's 6'5'' 270, swedish/irish)..
i usually have these moments when i'm laying in bed at night, right before i go to sleep. or when i'm driving, and i'm thinkin of him on my way home. 'talking' to him in my head, thinking of what i'd say to him when i got home if he were there. i usually just write, and ramble. if i make a complete circle i dont know, i treat this as a free write, a way to get things off my chest, and if others read it and gain from it, that's cool i feel very honored, but it's a very selfish thing for me. this road has taught me to be selfish, to reserve some energy for myself, that it is okay to be selfish. so if i get off topic, that's why, i'm rambling, i'm venting, i'm putting to paper my thoughts on how loving someone in prison affects my daily life. how i adjust the way the world perceives me. i had a good long talk with my supervisor today, all good things, but she reminded me, it's all in perception. and to be mindful of what others see. because their perception on you as a human being, is what they go off of. now why she brought that up, is because i have purple hair, piercings, half shaved head, and over 30 tattoos. i wear my doc martens, but i also put the hammer down at work. i hustle on the phone and sell for a living. no i dont call you to sell you anything. you call me. at my job it is very easy for me to become the public punching bag for a very large company. and i have to leave my home life at home. i have to keep the fact that my old man is in prison and act like it doesn't affect me for 11 hours of the day. i tears to be shed. nothing but smiles and a positive attitude, because my appearance isn't helping my perception. but my numbers show my work ten fold. now this perception, doesn't keep me from posting my pictures of my ian at my desk. and if people ask why he is taking a picture in front of razor wire, i tell them the truth. i dont lie, and i will only be honest, if you ask a question, regardless of who you are, i will tell you the truth. it's only when i tell them, oh he's in prison, that's my best friend, my ace duece, my old man, my sick boy, my everything, he is my life. and when the question of, how long, i tell the truth, and then the inevitable, how do you do it. it's very simple.
he is my best friend, first and foremost, and i will not, can not, never will, ever, turn my back on my friends. i'm very loyal, and i will bend over backwards to help my friends. he needed me, and he reached out, so i stood there to help him. and i still stand here. it is more then one side. you see i'm his best friend to. he is my rock, my shoulder. he's my drive, my reason to get out of bed. he is the glue that holds me together. i'm the glue that holds him together. we got each other, day in, day out. that's who we are, we ride for each other. and no it isn't ride or die, or ride til the wheels fall off. it's. just simple. we ride for eachother. we may not feel like gettin out of bed. we may be lower then low. but we hold each other together. i know anytime, of any day. i can sit down, and write my thoughts, like i sit here and write this right now. and he will get it, he will understand it. 100% non judgemental he will hear me out. if i ask for help, he will give me advice, if he asks for help, i will give him advice. it's a give take, an equal partnership. and that's how we made it through this far. he can trust me with his life, and he has. making sure that he has a great home to get out to. making sure that i have built us a new life, away from all the bs meth up in seattle. (our home town). he doesn't have to worry about me spreadin my legs like a slag. because truly, i have no desire to be with any other man than him. i've been tempted, or men have attempted to tempt me away from him, but really it just puts a sour taste in my mouth. layin down with another man, is like adding water to a water ba
and as all this turns into a very very very small point, because it is one of the general basis of having any relationship, but a prison relationship is better, because there is that constant trust issue, that tends to be the root of all fights that i have heard about. he doesn't trust her, or she doesn't trust him. so on, so forth. i guess what really triggered this was a letter i got from him today, with paperwork saying there is another warrant out for his arrest.... a 16 year old warrant from a different state.. yeah really 16 years old.. and as i was reading his sweet nothings and his daily routine and his thoughts, and our constant conversation discussing different plans we both want to make sure are completed before he gets home, he stops and writes and goes.. 'dont trip about that warrant i'm already trying to get it quashed because i'm in federal prison right now, it isn't extraditable, and it isn't on even on my detainer list'.. i sat there, and thought.. that mofo does he not know me better.. i wouldn't trip on him for that. his past is just that.. his past.. i'm no nun. but his past, naw i'd never get upset.. because i trust him to be able to handle his own ish and get home to me as soon as possible. i didn't call the court house to tell them he was in prison. i didn't call his lawyer. nope. i just let it be. because i trust him. he is my glue, he wouldn't weaken us for anything. and this lil warrant is the least of our concerns. hell i'm more intrigued by the pool my friends have going on about how long until he gets home before i'm pregnant with a lil baby viking. (he's 6'5'' 270, swedish/irish)..
By:
genocidesuprstar
Age:
22-25
