The Irish Tattooist

Chapter 35 (Short, random update)

All I want to do is live a 'champagne lifestyle on a lemonade budget, bitch.' 

Brownie points to whoever gets the reference, ;) ;)

School is sucking my money out of me, like a prostitute to a politician. 

THE BALL/PROM IS SOON and I am completely over it. My money is gone, my brows are weak, my face is bitchy, I don't want to do it. 

But just because there's some girls I don't like, I'm gonna go and sashay, and saslay. 

May the best woman, BEST WOMAN WIN. 

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The signs of a healthy relationships were ones where disputes were settled quickly and easily, with no grudges held or judgement made. It was a relationship where you both admitted things you had done wrong, took responsibility and actively try to change that mannerism. 

I think Ripper and I had a healthy relationship. 

You see, relationships weren't fifty fifty all the time- you can't just divide it up into equal parts of work. Some days I was a thirty and Ripper had to pick up the seventy, some days Ripper was a forty and I had to pick up the sixty. 

It wasn't about doing an equal amount all the time -it was about making sure we were each still one hundred. 

And Ripper had been doing that for me. 

We had gone home after we had made up, talking the whole way home. I didn't realize how much I had missed his company until we sat in his car, his hand on mine. He really was everything to me- something that used to scare me so much I didn't want to admit it. 

Long ago, I had scoffed at women who said their partner or husband was their world, and vowed never to make sure a man had that much control over my actions, my emotions and the way I viewed my life. That kind of narrow mindedness stunted a lot of the relationships I used to have, men often angry that I wouldn't put in more, or that I wasn't doing enough.

Ripper made me feel...worthy. Worthy to know, to fight for, but ultimately to love. It was something I didn't realize I struggled with, believing myself worthy of love. 

And now I was comfortable- to be loved and to give love. 

Ripper pulled me out of my thoughts, drawing me onto his lap as the tv blared in the background, golden eyes a sun and blocking out our surroundings. 

"What're you thinking about, Sugar?" 

I put a hand on his face, giving him a gentle smile. 

"I'm thinking that I love you. I'm thinking that I'll never stop loving you. I'm thinking about how grateful I am for God making you and putting you in my path." I leaned forward, my words a whisper. 

My nose touched his. 

"I never believed in soulmates. And then I met you."

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