Stepping stones

So bright and sunny, I nearly forgot what was bothering me. Thankfully, my looming dark cloud keeps a disorganized notepad for me, with the most pressing and anxiety-provoking concerns written on the outside in bold comical letters.

Today I finally told Quinton, once again, how I was feeling. He didn't appear to take it very well. I want to be independent. I want to live my own life and not rely on someone who can barely afford to care for offspring, never mind me.

As many say, I've always been brutally honest to a fault. One of the first truths I told Quinton when he first moved in with me was that all I had wanted for a few years was a baby, so much so that I didn't care who I got it from. I'm surprised we have lasted this long.

I'm not happy. I need more. I'm unfulfilled and don't know what to do about it.

Not to mention, we have these roommates that are as annoying as the smoke from a bonfire following you all night just to make sure you don't have a good time or the mosquitoes that get into your tent and ruin an otherwise pleasant camping trip. Or that little dog everyone says is cute but never shuts up, and you know, it's a diabolical evil genius that will murder you in your sleep if the opportunity presents itself.

Anyway, it isn't so much the humans' general existence that I find bothersome; instead, I feel like I'm constantly cleaning up after them. And then there's the total lack of privacy. I can't do anything without them knowing it, fuck a blowjob. Not that it matters. I have no desire to be touched by him. I dream about sex with other people, not Quinton. I fantasize about threesomes and orgies, but he's never in them.

I used to think his endless intelligence and vast expanse of knowledge was enough. That was what I fell in love with. But it's starting to bother me. I can't watch a documentary without him having another opinion, which is fine, except that my opinion somehow seems wrong. And I've started to notice that his intelligence is limited and unchanging.

He will not let me go without a fuss. Would it be better to leave now? Have the baby grown up seeing her father when he is able? Or do I wait until I'm done with school? I haven't even applied yet; I can't do this for four or more years.

Either we will fix the relationship, I will be happier, and nothing will be wrong, or I will still want to leave, in which case my daughter will be old enough to understand, which would break my heart. My only real option here is to stay for both of them.

I don't think Quinton could live without me anyway. He says I complete him. Interestingly, this man also told me that I could if I wanted to sleep with someone else. He knows how to please me; I just don't think he's what I need anymore. The thought of a break almost killed him. So I will stay a while longer and figure something out.

There may be a time when people are meant to be there for you. Perhaps he has served his purpose, and now it's time for me to move on. My intellect surpassed his, and my attraction to him immediately diminished. I couldn't live a lie, so I ended it.

I still care for him so much. After leaving, the first thing that came to mind was ensuring all his bills were caught up and that he had everything he needed. If I didn't still care, I don't think that would have come to mind.

Quinton has done so much for me. He has pulled me from the edge of darkness in my weakest moments and made me see the brightness around me. Without him, I'm sure I would not be where I am now. I have everything to live for and everyone to love.

He moved back in with his parents. He has not added value to the power of his brain and doesn't seem to understand the concept of neuroplasticity. He doesn't have a great life. He was a stepping stone, and I thank him for our child and for opening my mind to the possibilities it wasn't open to before I met him.