People usually tell me "You're only 21. You have a lot of life to live, you'll find happiness soon."
I call bullshit.
I grew up in a household where I was provided for, and that is where it ended. My family cares about me, and they love me. But they don't need me. It wouldn't make a difference to them if I was here in New Orleans or home with them. My dad moved here for a few months, and just when I thought a great father-daughter relationship was forming, he left.
The fact that I am divorced at 21 doesn't say much either. It doesn't count, lust isn't love and there isn't even a fine line between the two. It's a thick line. The way I was treated during my marriage was equivalent to the way a lonely dog who is always caged up in the back yard is treated.
The guy I have been seeing that I told you about is leaving. He's moving home. I honestly felt like this was it, like I found someone who could help me be happy for once. He cried when he told me which leads me to believe that he did like me as much as I liked him. But his father is sick, so he has to go.
I don't care how old I am. Happiness isn't like becoming the legal age to drink, it shouldn't be limited. I think for what it is worth, I deserve a heaping spoonful of happiness.