I have never been one for cliff jumping but I feel as though my heart is in my throat after yesterday. We went to the museum and he essentially asked me to move in with him. We already live together, yes, but not like that. I've quit, as well. He's no longer paying me for what I do. I often thought of the day when I would be replaced by his significant other but I didn't think I would be replacing myself. I took this job because it would get me closer to what I wanted. I wanted to go from nanny to secretary to personal assistant and up and up until my place of birth stopped me from going any higher. But I love that little girl so damn much; even if I wasn't in love with her father, moving onwards and upwards would be a terribly difficult thing. Maybe my mistakes happened at the beginning, when I interviewed for this job, when I let Maddie into my heart, before I ever cast a glance at her father. Maybe I shouldn't have kissed him, shouldn't have fallen in love with him. I didn't want to feel this way, ever, because it would do exactly what it's done, it would ruin my focus, my career. Love was never something I wanted, I never wanted to need someone. I was fine on my own. I've always been fine on my own. I never saw myself as a wife, as a mother. I was going to be more than that, more important than that. But having Madison around, knowing Gregory, I realize there's nothing more important than that. I'm young. I'm so fucking young, I'm young enough to be his daughter, and I have everything ahead of me. But I want to do this. I want to be as much of a mother as I can be to Madison. Because I know what it's like to lose a mother, and I can't let her feel that twice.
I knew I would learn from Gregory. How to balance a career and a family, how to manipulate, how to never back down, how to intimidate. I didn't think I would learn what I have, I didn't think he would teach me that love doesn't stop even after death, that there's nothing more important than the relationship between a parent and a child...When my mother killed herself, I thought it was horribly selfish, and that she couldn't possibly love me or my sister if she would take her own life. But she did. And Gregory has made me understand that.
I'm so utterly terrified. Because I love him. The traits I would cite if someone asked me would not appear to be especially lovable, and it's not like I love him
in spite of the anger, of the frustration,
in spite of his constant smugness, of his priorities, however skewed they may be in the eyes of others. I love him because of it. I love him because he kicks me out of bed. Because I know why he does it.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel as though I'm part of a family. Now that I feel this, I don't think I can let it go.