Ah. I sort of knew this was coming. J's father wants to draw up a formal custody/parental rights agreement. (We've never had anything on paper before--just a verbal agreement, to which we adhere pretty closely.) I have a feeling this is designed to prevent me from re-locating out of state with J.

Did I mention that The Irishman has a house in Queens? He was in NY for many years, but then his company needed him here. He still has the house and will probably be going back to NY in a few years. He has one sister in Boston and one in Philadelphia, too, and he's very close to them.

I know this is driving J's father's sudden need to put everything on paper. As long as I never got involved with anyone, things were easy for him because I could be totally flexible--no life, no attachments, no demands. Now, I want to look after my own happiness a bit and this is going to upset the balance.

So okay. I would not want J's father to take J to live out-of-state, so I have to agree to be bound by the same terms. Why do I suddenly feel like I'm about to be locked up in a dark little cell? For the next fourteen years? Because I was an idiot six years ago?

My chest feels tight. That ringing noise? That would be the wake-up call.

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