Does a guy have to make more money than the woman he is dating?

Many people say especially for folks that are very or just old fashion a man must make more than the woman he is dating. In my eyes no, a man does not have to make more money than the woman he is dating. In most cases it is a pride issue for the man and in the eyes of the woman's parents it is a disapointment. So, in our modern day and economy does a man have to make more than the woman he is dating?

Crushed.

I sit here as I think. I’m just thinking of my life the confusion of not understanding who I truly am or who I can truly ask questions about these silly little things that linger within my head. I lean back as I sip on this shitty coffee with the powder creamer that’s just floating at the edges of my cup. I push myself forward and a little too hard when the coffee just spattered all over my desk, and now to the floor. I stare at the mess, I just stare and I blanked out.
The clear clean glass suddenly shattered forming spider-webs and the metal that’s crushing against my bony arms and legs are making me feel lifeless. I can’t move an inch all I can do is watch what is happening around me. The shatter is getting wider and it reminded me of when I was a little girl I ran across the lake during the winter and as I stood in the middle I heard the ice crack, felt like my simple world was about to fall apart. But nothing in the world could be louder than my parents yelling my name and in that instance I sprinted to them.
This time in this situation I have no one I am completely helpless to myself and useless to everyone. I can now feel the pressure on my chest and I can feel my head turning blue as I lose tasteless air that suddenly felt so amazing. The glass shattered all over my body, and now I can stare up at the sky as the beautiful twinkle, twinkle little fiery stars laugh as I am being crushed to death. And I look at the reflection from the sky-roof and I see myself dying with blood tracing all around my face, down to my neck, and down to my lifeless still body. The taste of blood in my mouth is choking me and breathing just isn’t easy anymore, I am actually struggling with the simplest thing a human can do. I am pathetic, a pathetic simpleton.
I stare back up at the clear skies that are full of stars that are mocking me, I’m suddenly so jealous of the endless sky that roams so freely. Meanwhile I’m being crushed in here with my reflection facing directly at me, as if the universe wants to send me a pun. Finally the stars seem closer to me as if they want to get a closer look at my bloody body, but I just don’t care because I can’t do anything.
On my last breath and I have nothing to say because I’m taking my words and my thoughts to my grave. For I have nothing to share with this world, not in this life…

It's Usually a Place called Home

Sometimes there's just so much stuff going on in your head, and the feelings that goes throughout your body is so phenomenal no one can understand...
This short story I wrote was something I feel every other day...
My inescapable place, I feel trapped.

Its only 9:03 p.m and her fingers were blue and her hands were numb from the cold weather. She's sitting in her car shivering just staring at her house. She shut her eyes tightly just contemplating whether to go in yet. The door of her car opened she listening to the beeping sound from the car because the key was still in the ignition. She was still hesitating whether to walk into the warm house or just stay in her freezing car, but slowly her body was moving towards the house with her mind just throbbing. The fog from her warm breath colliding against the cold was blurring her vision towards this house. As her body moved towards the house she came to a complete stopped to think about it again "should I drive away or just continue towards the house?" Thinking about the constant yelling and constant questioning that goes on in that particular house prevents her from moving. Her legs froze, she couldn't continue anymore, the stress built up from that place people usually call home. She moved a little closer to the house thinking hard, but now she's infront of the house almost touching it. It's so cold out here her legs are numb, her eyes are watery, nose was running, and its getting harder to breathe. She can see her sister with one leg up laughing with the parents then blankly staring at her, her mom laughing then stare at her as if she have done something terrible, her dad smiling with his glasses tilted then taking them off stare at her as if he's about to start the questionings, then once again everyone bombarding her with questions all at once. With a tone which she highly dislike with no respect with a tone where they cared not for a second of where she's have been or what shes been doing. Their thoughts of her doing nothing, but failing her duty as a young adult to carry on a great future for her own life as an independent. With a tone where they only expect nothing positive, but an answer of negativities and failures she's done to herself. She felt her body move into the house, where her spirits of wanting to stay away was behind the door she had came in from. Again the questioning that she have expected, the insecurities, the doubt of the family pressuring her to fulfill their dreams they think she'd be happier in. Her body moved past them and back to her room where she had little privacy. Her body laid lifeless on the floor she can hear them whisper loudly about her as if they were just so angry they couldn't keep their whispering voice down. They loudly whispered loudly about her future is no good because she's doing this and that wrong. She tried once to stand up to the people she called family, but there was no use to be burdening the family again. Where everyone just gets mad at her in particular, where chairs and small or big furniture being tossed around, the sounds of cracking and shattering hurts everyone emotionally and physically under this house, this place they called home. She finally lifted her body up from the floor to her bed where under the covers are her only comfort zone in this place called home.

Just when she got comfortable her eyes opened from a garbage bin that was blown at her car. She was still in the car its 9:13, time minutes had past, the Ne-yo track still spinning. She was reminiscing about the previous experience times she'd come home when the lights were still shining within the house. The only burden she carries with her is her love for the family that she had locked her heart to theirs, only they carry the key to unlock this nightmare of hers.

-FWC