As y'all know I haven't had the easiest time adapting to life on the outside. Jay is the one person who always saw through whatever I was going through and could see the real me. Not that he ever knew me in my past life, he got the other version of Margaux. But to him, that version was still smart, funny, beautiful and worth loving. He didn't take my crap though. That's why we kept breaking up. He's not like me. He doesn't have some profound need to be liked that makes him put up with bad behaviour from other people. He sticks up for himself. He sticks up for me.
I'm learning slowly that the only way to love someone else is to love yourself first. I've had a lot of boyfriends. And I don't think I ever realized that I deserved to be treated well. That I shouldn't put up with being male dominated, put down or lied to or cheated on. None of us do.
So at times, I've been a very bad girlfriend to him. We were younger then. We partied too much. Didn't sleep enough. Fought too much. But there were good times. He forced me to love Game of Thrones and implemented "no pants Sundays". He could iron chef something awesome from nothing in the cupboard.
Then we started to grow up and things started getting real. My cat died and I had a puppy dumped on me. I got sick for quite some time. I went home indefinitely. Jay would send me care packages with new clothes. He'd visit me every day I was in the hospital. Text me in the morning and ask what I wanted to eat because I'm picky and he knew I wouldn't eat hospital food. When one of my best friends was dying he'd drive me to the hospital and wait outside.
He supports all my stupid ideas like coming home randomly with new animals and doing an MBA while I work. Anytime he's off work and it's a nice day he takes us to the beach because that's my favorite place. He's been there for my siblings and my girlfriends and makes sure my dog is taken care of. (Max loves him to death but he's still mommy's boy.)
I guess all I really want to say is, we don't always understand where big love comes from. I worked on Bay Street for years. All those flashy guys in suits with their expensive cufflinks and even more expensive cars. The guys you'd meet in the cool bars who all had their wedding rings in their pockets so they could pick up girls.
Real love is every. fucking. day. Good times and bad. Pretty or ugly. Money in the pocket or broke as hell. Nice vacations and then the years you can't afford to take a vacation. Shopping at your favorite store one day, dollarama the next. Sacrificing for the family. Before him, I didn't know what it was like to have someone accept you unconditionally. Flaws, imperfections, bad habits. All the things you try to hide. Guess I'm just really lucky I got so many chances to get this right. :)
Sullivan out.
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