I used to wonder why some peoples lives turned out the way they did.

 

Why did my mother end up in small town USA as a sixteen-year-old working as a maid to earn enough to raise a baby.

 

Why did my grandmother not hire a detective to hunt her ass down.

 

Why was it my father was let off to live his life as a free as a bird without having to worry about his baby.

 

And what strange set of circumstances let my mother screw up her life over and over again all because of my father.

 

I used to wonder if I was going to share my mothers curse of falling in love at sixteen and never getting over that love, letting it ruin my future.

 

Then of course I did fall in love and I finally realised that I was not my mother.

 

Because I didn’t fall in love with my boyfriend when I was sixteen, no, I had to wait for the bad ass who came when I was seventeen and broke me up with the boy I said I loved.

 

Then of course he left. And it hurt, but I wasn’t heartbroken.

 

I was sad and angry, pissed off and withdrawn, sullen and upset. I cried buckets and swore when no one could hear.

 

Eventually love made me do something very very dumb. I slept with the boyfriend whom I professed to love when I was sixteen.

 

Sex is a funny thing. I never used to really think about it. Until I had it, then it kind of hijacked my mind for a while. I never really thought that I was going to wait for marriage before I had sex. It was more I was going to wait until I was in love. Then of course because I was in love, I’d marry that guy. He’d be my first and my only.

 

What a load of crap that turned out to be.

 

When I was little, I used to look at my mother and think no one could be more beautiful than her. I still think that.

 

When I was little I used to think I wanted to live my life just like her. I’d live in Stars Hollow and run the inn, banter with Luke and maybe have a puppy rather than a baby. Then I grew up some and decided I could see what the world had to offer before I settled down in Stars Hollow. Eventually I decided that while Stars Hollow was a beautiful place to grow up, I’d probably go crazy if I grew old there.

 

I think my mother blames my grandmother for that kind of thinking, but she shouldn’t. She was the one who instilled in me a huge thirst for knowledge, a need to know everything. She was the one who set me on my path.

 

Which leads me to where I am right now.

 

In Logan’s bed.

 

Its probably one of the strangest occurrences in my whole life, because no matter what my grandmother thinks, or how much I try… I’m not really part of his world.

 

I can attend the parties, wear the right clothes, say the right thing, know the right people, but I just don’t fit. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to fit before. Now I’m sure of it.

 

I like Logan. I possibly even love him. I don’t really trust my heart to do my thinking for me these days, its only led to pain and suffering in the past. And not just my pain and suffering.

 

I used to wonder why Mrs Kim was so strict with Lane. Lane was a good girl, I was a good girl. Why wasn’t she allowed to sleepover on weekends? I knew now of course that it was because my mother was barely out of her own childhood, but back then I used to think it was something I did. If I was just that little bit better behaved, that little bit smarter, Mrs Kim would let Lane stay over.

 

I guess I could thank Mrs Kim for being so strict with Lane for my academic excellence.

 

Of course, Logan is my opposite in so many ways. He coasts through life, just taking it easy. The biggest obstacle he’s had to overcome in his life was when his fake ID wasn’t authentic enough to get him into some famous bar when he was sixteen. He’s never had to ask for anything, its always been handed to him.

 

I make him work for me.

 

I make him beg for kisses, I make him plead for orgasm.

 

My grandmother once said that guys wont buy the cow when they can get the milk for free. The simile grossed me out then, and it still does.

 

Besides, I still wonder if I even want Logan to buy me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep him.

 

What if ten years down the track my heart up and changes its mind? “No, we don’t want him any more. We want tall dark and handsome from marketing instead.”

 

Cause if I’ve learned anything from the past, its that I like dark and handsome. Tall is suspect. And I like serious. Meanwhile, here was Logan, messy blonde hair, stupid smirk, more pretty than handsome and without a serious bone in his incredibly sexy body.

 

I can categorically say, that everything I like about Logan, I dislike just as much.

 

He’s always got a smile on his face.

 

He’s always got a smile on his face.

 

He sleeps through my writing beside him in bed.

 

He sleeps though my writing beside him in bed.

 

It often comes down to that old argument of whether I’d prefer to kick him or kiss him. Luckily for him I’m not violent. And that sex has temporarily hijacked my brain again.

 

Both my mother and grandmother have mentioned how like Christopher he is. Then they flinched when the realised they actually agreed on something to do with my life. My grandmother wants me married off and my mother just wants me to be happy. But careful, a mother at sixteen you know is enough to make ‘careful’ a way of life.

 

Not that I disagreed on this point.

 

Logan also has a horrible sense of humour. He likes to be in a room with my mother and grandmother when they’re fighting. His standard response is to laugh everything off and have another drink. A lesson he says he’s learned well from his parents.

 

And to think I used to wonder if anyone had more screwed up parents that me. Small town USA just does not prepare you for the big wide world. Especially not the world Logan lives in.

 

Which in my case is more than a little bizarre really. My mother was that world. You think she’d prepare a girl for all that this world has to offer, but no. I guess I couldn’t really blame her. She had hated it, and it hadn’t done her any favours.

 

Logan was initially fascinated by my life growing up. He’d ask me a million and one questions. Eventually I invited him to come stay in Stars Hollow for a weekend. He’d lasted until Saturday lunchtime then had Finn come and pick him up. He liked the stories, liked the idea of small town… but absolutely couldn’t abide it.

 

He’d called at 2am on Saturday night, booty call. I had a little bit of a rant about how if he’d stuck it out more than four hours in Stars Hollow he wouldn’t be over thirty minutes away with a hard on not even Linda Lovelace could cure before hanging up. Then not even thirty minutes later he was knocking in my window.

 

By then the alcohol had well and truly kicked in and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

I wondered now about weather I should be worried by the amount him and his friends seemed to drink. 

 

I liked his friends. Most of the time anyway. Finn could be an idiot, but he was always entertaining. Colin could be an arrogant jerk off, but mostly he was just another entertaining idiot. A monkey in the line up of hear, see and speak no evil. Except it was hear, see and speak evil, just don’t get caught.

 

It surprises me, how compatible we are. We’re two very different people. We both want and expect different things from life. Logan wouldn’t know introspective if it bit him on the ass. Meanwhile I write for hours in my journal after he’s fallen asleep beside me.

 

The thing I like most about sharing Logan’s bed? He snuggles. Sometimes snuggles so much I’ve had to rest my diary on his head. Even then, he doesn’t wake up. Cute but annoying.

 

That sums up him perfectly.

 

I wonder why my life turned out the way it has. I doubt as though I’ll ever get to find out why. But it’s ok, I kinda like what I’ve got anyway.