cutting snowflakes

I don't want the money. I don't give a fuck about the money. I want my son to be safe, and if the noncustodial parent is actually in compliance with the child support orders, avoids the two week order of arrest, and maintains appearances at each weekly supervised visit, he comes out looking like the good guy. And I don't want that. Because he beat me up almost nightly while I was pregnant and even though he was employed almost the entire year he failed to pay child support for that entire year, and what does that have to do with being a father anyway?

Made it through the semester (I think). I'm living here, with a beautiful well-lit apartment, a lovely job where I am treated like an adult and where my knowledge is useful and appreciated. I made it here on my own. My son is intelligent, hilarious, polite, and is doing very well at the Montessori school. The boyfriend I didn't intend to have is amazing. He's intelligent, creative, makes enough money, and we share the same concepts about relationships, how to talk, what to do with ourselves and our lives.

I am doing meaningful things with my life. I am in the program, and I have a plan. This is screamingly full of beauty and realized potential, and I'm blessed to be at the mercy of my lover's joy.

I don't know. I'm still poor, but it's never been this good 'till now.