$300+ down the hole (journaling on a Sunday in July)

Another day, another dollar evaporating into thin air.

Neighborhood kid was batting rocks in our parking lot yesterday and shattered the back windshield of my car. irked_smilies  Neighbors warned them to quit doing that, but young wannabe-hooligans don’t listen. Shattered the whole fucking windshield. Three hours later I finally found out about it despite being in my apartment the whole time. Downstairs neighbor man said he tried to knock on my door, but I wish they’d knock louder. Didn’t hear him. Walked out last night at 7:30pm heading to the car to go over to my former partner’s place for dinner when the woman across the hall told me of it and which kid was responsible.

Called the police so as to file a vandalism report, but after waiting outside for over an hour for them I wound up calling back and telling them nevermind. Couldn’t wait out there all night for the cops to show. Had a witness to the incident too. Called my insurance company but of course the windshield repair will cost less than my deductible. Set up an appointment to drive my car into a nearby town to have it worked on tomorrow morning. About to head outside soon to knock the rest of the glass out and hopefully keep it all from caving in to my backseat.

Confronted the mother of the kid and her boyfriend last night. Immediately she tried saying it wasn’t her kid and that she wasn’t about to pay for shit. Told her I’m going to have to report this to the landlord since her kids have already been responsible for several other damages (including spray painting gang-related symbols and words on our garbage dumpster — since painted over by the landlord). Told her to come outside and hear from the other neighbors who know more about what happened than I do. They told her what they knew and confirmed it was indeed her kid responsible.

My former partner had invited me to dinner earlier, so I called him and asked him to come over to look at the damage and help in figuring out what to do. Showed up grumpy, per his norm anymore. When he and I were finally about to take off, the mother of the kid started getting into it with the lady from across the hall. Don’t know why, don’t care. Sick of all this drama ramping up around here.

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Tuesday evening turmoil (journaling on the recent wreckage)

Still thinking about my loved one’s son’s car accident I mentioned in my last vlog:

And the boy is still avoiding his father as of this evening. Probably best to let his father settle down and cool off a bit.

Drinking and driving and crashing. I wonder what the consequences for him will prove to be in the end. Still haven’t driven out to see the accident scene. Will do so by Friday at least. Curious to see what wall he hit and how he managed to do so.

Could’ve really hurt himself, which, in turn, would’ve crushed his mom’s and dad’s hearts. Could’ve hurt somebody else too, which also would’ve been a huge tragedy.

I wonder if he’ll learn from this. Or if he’ll keep on until he has to learn in some harder fashion on down the line…

Don’t know the kid well enough to say. We never became close. Just were around each other a few years back and now rarely run into one another in passing. Not really certain what all he’s up to these days. Didn’t know he was drinking already. Also learned that some bar downtown I’ve never heard of before had been serving him alcohol despite him being underage. And I have half a mind to go say something about that out in public. Shouldn’t be allowed to keep your liquor license if you’re knowingly serving minors, though I know of other bars that occasionally do so. Ticks me off. Yet another reason for why I have grown so damned disenchanted with the barscene. Most bars and bartenders only care about money — to hell with all else. Witnessed this type of bullshit in many forms over and over and over again.

Tough love is on my mind right now. Not because I like to see young folks punished but because I don’t wish to see this behavior tolerated. To me, he’s not proving himself mature or responsible enough, so I see no reason for his parents to continue paying for his college costs, especially now as he’s about to set off to the university an hour away this fall. Perhaps he needs to go to work to save up money to pay his own way until he can get back in his parents’ good graces. My cousin has had to work his ass off to put himself through a university program without his parents’ help, and he didn’t even do anything wrong to receive that sentence as a punishment. My aunt and uncle just believe he’ll respect his education more if he funds it himself. I have mixed feelings on that, knowing how high the cost of education is currently, and also knowing my cousin is a competent young man who could’ve used more family support, both emotionally and financially. But he has still managed and done well for himself, and I’m proud of him. Perhaps this other young man who feels free to crash his car into brick walls while drinking underage would benefit from a similar sort of treatment. Or, more accurately, why should his parents spoil him if he’s only going to take their help for granted?

But that’s the way my mind works. And I don’t have kids so they say I’m not at liberty to tell everybody else how to raise theirs. So be it. Knowing his daddy and mom, they’ll continue to finance his schooling because they want better for him than they had. But I’d caution them to not let themselves be taken advantage of or to inadvertently bolster bad behavior by seeming to tolerate it. Does nobody any good to go that route.

Either way, I have little power in this situation other than to share my thoughts with the father. Wouldn’t dream of mentioning anything to the mother since undoubtedly she’d consider it a private matter that doesn’t pertain to me. Fair enough, though I am still around and likely will remain. She’s upset enough right now and has heard the father’s input already. None of them spoke with one another today.

I wouldn’t know how to raise a kid in this day and age. Would’ve likely screwed it up had I attempted to do so since I was drinking my damn self. But I know these two parents care a whole lot about that boy and want no harm to come to him. They want nothing but good things in his future and tried to give him what they could throughout his life. He has a big extended family and is well-loved. And yet, he’s acting up now. What can be done about that? I’d personally like to see members of the family speak up and address him directly with their thoughts and concerns, though I doubt they will. Too private of people most likely. Hard for me to understand that since my own family likely wouldn’t hesitate to roundly chastise me from all angles if ever I had been in a similar situation, as much good as that might’ve done. Would’ve hurt coming from my grandparents and embarrassed me coming from my uncle or stepdad. But I still got into the drinking lifestyle despite their disdain.

So what can one do? I don’t know. How do you talk sense to an immature youth about responsibility on this level when we can barely talk sense into people 30 and over? Like myself up until recently. Can make us feel awfully guilty, and yet we still don’t act right consistently. Not sure what can be done about that other than what’s already in place (e.g., the threat of being locked up and charged, DUI/OWI fines and penalties, license revocation, etc.). If that, along with the threat of winding up mangled and/or mangling somebody else, isn’t enough to scare people straight, what is?

Alcohol is a hell of a drug. No joke. I’m wrestling with its influence everyday still and will continue doing so for likely many moons to come, reflecting on the past experiences and now committing myself to ending all of that. Then this young man picks up the habit and runs with it. Lost one, gained one. Sad as that is…

Maybe he’ll learn his lesson. Maybe looking upon the wreckage that his car became will jolt him awake. Totaled. Not worth fixing. And so shortly after his father bought him new rims to replace the ones damaged in what he claimed was a slide in the ice over the winter. Not that his father believes that story any longer.

When his father went to look at the wrecked car, he said the first thing he did was inspect the brakes to check out his son’s claim that they had gone out. Confirmed that wasn’t the case immediately. The man’s a mechanic — why tell a lie that he can so easily inspect to confirm or deny? Explained to me how the rotors would show a marking on them had the brakes locked up. He fixes wrecked cars all day, every day. Said he can envision, based on the damage, how the car hit and how it likely leapt up in the air a little bit while going sideways over the curb. Can approximate the speed based on the damage since it’s a former cop cruiser and built to handle more jarring (and repeated) impacts on certain parts than ordinary civilian cars. He’s reconstructed the accident in his mind and has a good idea of what happened, and he’s very angry, for which I can’t blame him. Was a very stupid stunt for his son to pull. Could’ve really hurt himself had he hit that wall straight on. We’d be visiting him in a hospital most likely had that been the case. He better know how lucky he got that evening. Because Lord, his father would’ve fallen to pieces had his son been seriously injured or hurt somebody else. That fact, along with all the rest, really unsettles me this week. I hate to imagine it.

If I could say something to him, I’d tell him this: Kid, you’ve had a good life. Had so much given to you by two parents who love you dearly, plus the rest of your family. They aren’t perfect, but they’ve cared tremendously for you. And now you’re fucking up, which is like a slap in the face to them and to all the others out here who’ve given a damn about you. You’re in school, said to be making good grades. You’re working. You want to have fun, I get that, but this is no good. This is dangerous to everybody around. If you continue down this path, you’ll have nobody to blame but yourself. You really have been afforded so many opportunities in life. Why waste them? Why piss them away? Nobody wants to see you hurt or to see you facing charges in court because you hurt somebody else who didn’t deserve it. You’re supposed to be a smart young man, but that’s not how it’s looking this week. Do better than this. You know you can, and we all know it too. You didn’t come from the muck, you weren’t abused and mistreated, so why the apathy? Going to hurt yourself the most in the end. There’s no upside if this lesson doesn’t burn into your mind and steer you in a better direction. Want to be reckless and act a fool? Then don’t be surprised when others start treating you as such. That’s the way life goes. The sooner you can learn this and take it to heart, the better.

Not that he’d probably listen to any of that, and not that I’m likely to run into him anytime soon. Just thoughts that come to my mind. Wishes really. A prayer.

______________________________

Update on 6/29/2017: Drove by and saw the boy’s car yesterday. Was worse than the pictures I’d seen. The entire front end is destroyed and the passenger-side front tire is completely bent. His father said the wreck snapped the tie rod or ball joint (or whatever all that is, I can’t keep up with these mechanical parts). Looked really bad. Surprised on seeing the wreckage that his son walked away unhurt.

Saturday afternoon journaling in June 2017

Now on day 4 of my commitment toward change. Arm muscles are finally back to normal. Can extend them fully once again. Had dinner with my former partner last night and he said I had just awakened muscles in my forearm that probably had never been stressed so hard, then allowed them to get dehydrated and fatigued the day afterward, so there’s nothing really to worry about there. That’s good. Was nervous for a couple days there that I had damaged a tendon or ligament or something. But all is fine now.

Of course I’m still thinking about what all has transpired recently and why and how I feel about it. That last night out (Monday the 12th), the one where I mentioned the older lady bartender at the calmer bar seeming slightly nervous toward me, keeps running through my mind. The bar was dead that evening. A couple here or there would roam through but otherwise I was sitting in there alone, drinking and playing music on the jukebox. Wasn’t being rowdy or anything, just didn’t want to go home. And it’s that fear of going home that keeps perplexing me. Felt it so many nights while out and about. Like I’m afraid to be with myself, to sit there with my troubled thoughts and ideas and ruminations. That’s been the driving force for me in the barscene for as far back as I can remember. Just didn’t want to go home and be alone. And once it came time for me to return home, I’d want to be “set” to where I’d go to sleep shortly. Put myself out. If I didn’t drink enough at the bar to do the trick, I’d drink more once I got in. And I recall doing just that in my early 20s and here I am in my mid-30s still attempting to do the same thing.

That’s a lot of years of running from something. But what gets me is that I do look at my past and examine it in as much detail as I can. Always have done so. And I do look at what I’ve done wrong and let myself feel it deeply and acknowledge it for what it is. Just because I think about it, though, doesn’t make it go away. Worked it all out as much as I could hope to and yet here it always remains. Back another day to remind me. My thoughts are there when I drink though too. They don’t disappear. Might go under the radar for a while when distracted by others, but they crop back up as the night wears on. Not uncommon that by the end of the evening I’m actually fairly depressed or melancholic (as I prefer to call it). In other words, I didn’t remain a fun drunk for long many nights. I know that. Others knew that too. Told me so on occasion.

So the alcohol didn’t even fix what it was intended to fix, not even temporarily. Not even throughout the full evening of drinking. The thoughts always rise back up before all is done and said. And I believe it’s those thoughts I’ve been aiming to escape from all these years. I don’t know what to do with them. Don’t know how to tame them. But it’s clearly evident by now that adding alcohol to the mix not only doesn’t sufficiently eradicate them for long but also provides breeding ground for new reasons to be upset with myself.

I see it. I understand. More now than ever.

Not sure why I seem so afraid of sitting alone with myself for too long. Why it makes me stir-crazy and uncomfortable. I’ve known me long enough by now to recognize that these are simply thoughts, memories, and that they can’t do much more than pester me. Seems they wish for some sort of expression, some outlet, some way of being concretized, so to speak. And actually, if I’m honest with myself, I have known this for a long time. Guess I haven’t wanted to do it. Didn’t want to have to sit with them so intimately and try to fashion them into something else. Maybe it feels too personal, too sorrowful, too impossible to remedy. But they’re just emotions, and life could’ve been much worse. Not dealt the worst lot here. Just an awfully emotional person who feels these things so deeply that that worries me. Made me think these emotions might capsize my little ship eventually if I took up too much time with them all. So instead I opted for a “slow death” (as I call the drinking lifestyle), which is no better. Not one bit better. Very likely much, much worse. Dangerous for myself and others and completely unproductive in the big scheme of things.

So there’s no choice here right about now. This is what it is, and this is calling for what it wants. Maybe taking up these concerns and finding a way to make use of them will eventually satisfy that internal “gremlin” a bit too. I always return to what Erich Fromm wrote about our options as people: we can either find a productive path or wind up becoming destructive (whether toward others and/or ourselves). I’ve always known his words to be true, and yet I ran anyway and created this situation for myself. Reasoning alone apparently isn’t ever enough.

But I hear it now. Understand more than before, now that there are so many more memories added to the heap, generated within the last several years. New forms of destruction and chaos that were sparked by my hands and my words this time around. Teaches me about the dark side to one’s being. Our capacity to cause harm, whether we deliberately set out to do so or not. And that’s been a valuable lesson. Gotta thank something out there for showing that to me in the ways it has.

Seems to be true that we start to really strive toward heaven once we have reckoned with hell. Otherwise we don’t know what we’re even striving for. But, then again, most roads to hell are paved with good intentions. Maybe dealing in our own versions of the abyss is what helps clarify what’s actually better, more worthwhile, truly healthier, less idealistic and more real.

I can’t regret these years fully since they’ve provided a treasure trove of opportunities to observe others and myself. Lots of shocking material there. Parts of myself I wouldn’t have believed existed had I not witnessed it directly, and same goes for plenty of others. We humans are far more complex than we can imagine, because life is far more complex than we are capable of imagining. Consciousness is a trip, to say the least.

It is what it is. And I’m here to explore it amongst all of you. No one’s perfect, nor is it worthwhile to expect anybody to be. Not even sure what perfection really entails anymore. Just no longer want to toss chance to the wind and act like I’m not responsible for any outcomes when that’s so obviously not true. Such a strategy is an attempt to hide from reality. But we know how that goes…we can run on for a long time, but sooner or later we will be cut down…

True. And it’s okay. I know these days that I can take the pain. Besides, there’s nowhere else to run. And so be it. This is a blessing in disguise, I do know that and appreciate it as such. Just a transition period right now is all. Gonna take time to get my bearings and to form new habits and whatnot. Still, this is FAR better than the road I’ve been on, even if this winds up being treacherous for a spell. So far it is not, but I am preparing myself for that possibility and will accept it if it comes. Because it’s just life. This is how it can roll. Still better than the alternative I had been pursuing. That was monotonous and nihilistic and was tearing me apart. Turning me into something I didn’t want to be. Don’t want to go back there ever again. Not like that. Too pointless and painful and chaotic and uncontrollable. Became useless. Frustrating and saddening and pitiful and not much else.

Why do we fear life and living? Why do we try to hide out and not be seen for what we are? And why have we humans been attempting this since the dawn of time? What are we so afraid of? Rejection? We’re going to be forced to deal with that regardless. Pain and suffering? Same deal. Failure? I think that hits closer to the mark. Existential guilt and confusion.

Anyway, time to move on to something else.

Observing people on a Sunday afternoon while at the “beach”

Always strikes me as funny to refer to anything in this land-locked Midwestern state as a “beach,” but that’s what the locals call their riverside recreational area. Nice spot actually. It’s where my best guyfriend likes to go to lay out and catch some rays, so I accompanied him yesterday as I occasionally do.

Loads of families were there, as to be expected. Several couples also. What was interesting to me was the diversity of the crowd. Considering this “flyover state” is known for being white bread, most probably wouldn’t expect to see such a wide spectrum of colors and ethnicities all intermingled. Likely not the case outside of this metro and in the more rural areas, but here we all are in the big city.

A large group of Africans were there, playing in the water off at the end. All seemed pretty friendly. Watched them interact while we were wading in up to our thighs, taking a break to cool off. They have a dramatically emotional flair to them, which I find interesting as a highly emotional person myself. And not a one of them seemed concerned about getting their hair wet, that being a stereotype associated particularly with black women. But these were people of direct African descent, not our stereotypical black Americans.

Speaking of which, farther down the beach I noticed a good-looking black female with a good-looking Asian male. She too didn’t seem concerned about getting her hair wet, which leads me to assume that must’ve been her natural hair. Was very pretty.

A group of Hispanic people were out there too, though I only saw their kids get in the water while the adults remained clothed and chatted amongst themselves near the periphery of the “beach.”

Nearer to our blankets were a black American couple, both middle-aged and very attractive. He was reading a book in his chair while she got in the water. She too had her own natural hair and had no hesitation about swimming or getting sand in it. I like to see people’s natural hair rather than the “hair hats” that Tommy Sotomayor makes such a big deal about. He’s right — weaves have a lot of downsides and not enough upsides to make them worth it. Not being free to swim or even scratch one’s scalp sounds incredibly unappealing.

I bring this up because once it grew time for us to leave about 6:30pm, the parking lot was filling up with black Americans who had arrived. And to be honest, I was glad we were leaving by that point. The weave-wearers had shown up, along with sporting the attitudes many of us have to come to expect from them. Some might say it’s racist to simply state it like that, but I don’t care. The word racist has been played out and rendered meaningless anyway. My main point is that there was a distinct difference between the black folks (mostly African but also a handful of black Americans) who were there in the afternoon versus the black Americans showing up as evening approached. You could see it in their body language immediately.

Each day I ponder on the direction society is headed in, and while I acknowledge that racial identities can be complex and that plenty shouldn’t be judged in accordance with a stereotypical mold, I observe those who epitomize such stereotypes as well. Am not color-blind and won’t pretend to be so. Stupid to expect that from people. We all do notice, whether we’re willing to admit it.

Laying there roasting in the sun, I got to thinking about the Africans I’ve known and how many of them openly disdain our American blacks. Don’t see themselves as belonging to the same in-group at all. They don’t wish to be lumped into that shared category because they see themselves (and their varied nations of origin) as being distinct culturally and unaligned with the American Black narrative. They get frustrated by them. So they opt to self-segregate away from our black Americans. Interesting. I wonder if they too left when the weave-wearers showed up. Perhaps. And would anyone accuse them of racism for doing so?  lol

Nothing wrong with avoiding unnecessary drama.

A part of me feels a bit bad for the (stereotypical) black American currently seeing as how so many of them appear to be ruled by an inferiority complex that leads them to behave and act out in ways that only further confirms the stereotype in the minds of others, resulting in increasing social tensions. It’s set up a conundrum that can’t easily be remedied at this point in history. The past can’t be allowed to fade away since so many feel deeply invested in it, yet ruminating over the past is proving to be bondage in a new way as it’s carried forth into the future. While I can understand the habit of lamenting the past, there’s no way forward if you look out upon all others as racists unceasingly aiming to hold you back. And others don’t care for being viewed that way either, hence why we might walk away. But we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t. If we leave you to it, we’re racist. If we stay and stand our ground, we’re racist. If we tell you what you want to hear, we’re racist. If we speak openly and plainly without putting your feelings first, we’re racist. Surely if we just sit there mute we’re probably still regarded as racist.

People tire of that shit. It’s exhausting to deal with. Feels like mental loops and traps. A rigged game. No longer about individuals interacting but instead an obstacle course where if the right things aren’t said or the right demeanor isn’t displayed, we’re going to be called out, nevermind what’s actually going on in our minds or how much we aimed to not offend. I can’t stand for my motivations to be assumed based on some ridiculous narrative. If you want to know why I say what I say or do what I do, just ask me. Pretty good about speaking straight. Yet this is what we constantly hear these days, these assumptions that everybody out here is motivated by racism. Couldn’t possibly be that we just wish to avoid unnecessary drama that we’ve come to associate with certain types of people. Often it isn’t based on race solely, as demonstrated by people’s openness toward the Africans.

In short, it’s not skin color alone that is the focal point– it’s the attitudes and actions that stereotypically accompany them across however many persons. Yes, white folks can be assholes too, and nobody would claim otherwise. Since some wish to ascribe motivations to those of other races, I’ll feel free to do the same in pointing out what appears to be an inferiority complex among too many black Americans. Inferiority/superiority complex since it swings to wild extremes, even within the same individual. On one hand loudly protesting assimilating into the wider “white-dominated” culture and its laws, while simultaneously wailing about people avoiding them and/or not including them. But when you show up to say that we’re all a bunch of shits who inherently look down upon you, yes, you become a bummer to be around. And when you act as if your feelings should matter more than all else, you’re setting up a one-sided situation where either people won’t be honest with you or, if they are, will only offend you. Which then can turn nasty in an instant.

You tell me who’s got time for that?

We just wanted to enjoy a relaxing day at the “beach” among others doing the same, sans dealing with bullshit and loud attitude problems. The Africans were all cool. The interracial couple were cool. The middle-aged black American couple were cool. All the various shades of “white” folks lying on their towels or playing with their kids were cool. And then…who showed up and brought tension?

It’s not racist to state it plain. If people wish to be perceived differently in the eyes of others, it’s on them to make some changes. But I know too well how hardheaded humans tend to be, particularly those who pander to a grievance industry, so I assume tensions will just keep escalating until greater problems arise. Don’t wish to see that unfold, but how can it be prevented when people don’t wish to take personal responsibility or to compromise? Concessions have already been made, and many of them. The ball is in the other court — can we upgrade this game finally or should we just keep allowing our society to grow divided and hostile?

Distancing music

By that I specifically am referring to creating distance from social and/or romantic entanglements as can prove necessary. But whatever else may be applicable.

Beginning with Stabbing Westward’s “Save Yourself”:

That one probably sticks with me since it came out in my early teen years. Heard it many, many times over the years. True sentiment expressed there in the chorus.

Cedric Burnside’s “Washy My Hands”:

A true artist there. The real deal. Grandson of the great R.L. Burnside.

Firefall’s “Strange Way”:

Led Zeppelin’s “Since I’ve Been Loving You”:

That was “Won’t Get Fooled Again” by The Who.

“Lunatic Fringe” by Red Rider:

Sometimes shit just doesn’t work out. Can’t. Too many problems, too many incompatibilities. Of course I’m still referring to the same situation I’ve been involved in for several years now. But whatever. Think we both understand by now how much this isn’t working. Gotta leave it alone and let it rest, go our own ways. Being retardedly magnetically attracted to one another hasn’t served us well over time.

But I don’t regret the relationship, and he says the same. Learned a lot from it. We now have our own individual problems needing to be tended to, and we don’t accomplish that well in one another’s presence. A hard lesson learned again and again throughout time. But he’s not a bad guy. We do appreciate one another. Just became an unworkable situation. C’est la vie. Problems are cumulative. But I do feel like a better person after having known that man, crazy as we drove one another. Learned a lot. Some of which he intended to teach but also plenty that he did not. Either way, he’s family and will remain so regardless of what the future brings. He acknowledges this as well. Both so tired of this sad situation not appreciably improving enough.

Life is what it is. Nobody promised us a rose garden. BUT our own conduct and choices do matter an awful lot. Undeniably. Not all simply random chance roll of the dice. We do impact this unfolding, obviously. The development of our individual potential is on us and can’t be fully determined by anybody else, no matter what we may go through with them. The blame game is one of the oldest obstacles confronting humankind. The responsibility ultimately lies with us as individual persons. Fault is one thing, but responsibility is entirely another. Can’t be helped. Such is life.

There are so many good things out here in the world. Good and bad, but still there is good too. Opportunities. So many reasons to remain curious. So much to learn and inspect. It’s going to be okay, or at least it will be what it will be. We only have so much control when up against Nature. But what control we do possess does matter. More than we seem to realize.

It ALL simply is what it is…

It’s not uncommon for us to take issue with those who tend to make us feel guilty, whether by their deliberate or unintentional words, actions, or general personalities. We are masters of projection — proven time and time and time again. There’s a woman who springs to mind regularly and can’t help but conjure up hate in my heart (actually a couple women if I reflect back). Even though now they’re both gone, out of the picture, one for several years who originally dated back to my early youth through the step-family).

Some days I feel like I contain so many stories — my own and others’ — enough to where I just might burst. Too much to carry alone.

My heart and soul have been in a strange place for quite a spell now. No question. But I do see glimpses of the light more and more. I am still struggling to piece together what I am able to at this juncture. Maybe eventually I will figure out how to make better (public) sense of what life has been teaching me.

What is love? And how much is it worth to each of us individually? Just a passing (perennial) thought…

Another night wears on and my conscience aches enough to be noticeable. I won’t make excuses. Explanations, though, I attempt at because I’m trying to learn myself. ALL is a learning process, and we didn’t all start out with equal sets of instructions or guidance. That’s a given.

Time for some tunes. Creating a new post now.

Hopefully over for the last time

He’s mad at me for everything. Blames me for damn-near everything, even that which is on him. And I’ve grown so goddamn tired of it all. Six years have gone by now, 5 years of which have been majorly problematic. Nowadays we have a good week or two, and then the gavel of judgment drops again. Always on time, though never easily predicted when exactly it will fall. And shit just stirs up again and again and again and again…

Want to call me a “shithead” for past discretions dating back 5 years ago. Okay. Yes, I am a shithead. Apparently. Worst of the worst. But if he feels so strongly against me, why did he ever contact me on Valentine’s Day unexpectedly and invite me over for pizza with a bouquet of roses and a box of fine chocolates waiting? (First time in nearly 3 years to buy me flowers.) Why keep putting me through these paces? Back at Christmas he gifted me far more than I expected then too. Why? If you are so angry at me and feel so much contempt and claim to want me gone when you’re angry and been drinking — why even do all that? Why keep doing this again and again?

Says because he does care. Says he loves me and always will. And yet…  Here we remain in this stupid, senseless limbo.

A bar-pal told me something tonight. Connected a piece in the puzzle. My former companion fairly recently had lied outright. Claimed something entirely else despite calling on me for help. For no good reason since the truth wouldn’t have pissed me off. But lied anyway. How he thought others wouldn’t inform me remains a mystery. But if I confront him with a lie, he will turn it back, as he always does, to what I have done wrong in the past. This remains the perpetual cycle. Never changes. Wish it would but it doesn’t. And on and on it goes…

Earlier tonight we told one another goodbye for the umpteenth time. Must make it stick this time. Tired of so much bullshit. He doesn’t trust me (for good reason) and I don’t trust him anymore either (for equally good reason). So many tears have been shed during our fiasco. Several years running now…

Lord, I am so tired. Been tired for a long time now. Please provide me enough grace to move on with my life. We are so rude and harsh toward one another at times. It is too cruel to keep accepting. If he invites me back once again, may I possess the strength to resist and decline. Because I will only be blamed for whatever outcome comes of it over time. He knows it and I know it. This is the modus operandi at this point. Has been for several years. Can’t keep doing this to ourselves any longer. Makes me hate myself. Causes me to second-guess every instinct I have, nearly all of which are trying to pull me in a different direction by now. Except for that lone gremlin who relates to him in terms of my childhood and upbringing (and presumably his as well), that tries to recreate a scenario that will never work, that will not listen to reason and just keeps plowing on as if it knows what is best. It does not. It is misguided. It is in pain and fractured and does not apparently comprehend the current state of living. It wishes to fix some age-old dilemma that cannot be repaired, close as he seems integrated into to that. I broke my trust with him years back. So there is nowhere to go from here but away.

Too many have listened to me lament on all of this over these years. Some of my closest friends have told me I am no longer my true self. That I have lost myself in this irreparable conundrum. They are correct. I have not been willing to listen to reasoning, or at least not willing to act on it properly. Been a long time coming.

He is not the devil. Nor am I. We are just not able to make any of this work. I wish him well though do not desire to stand by him as he seeks out his next love interest. Can’t and no longer will. Blames me for holding him back due to guilt  despite inviting me to be around regularly. Is maddening. He wants to be free yet doesn’t wish to be alone apparently. I can relate to that feeling. However, no, the line must be drawn somewhere. Should’ve been drawn long ago between us, as he and I both recognize. We’re torturing ourselves and one another to continue this sordid mess of a “relationship,” however it is to be defined. Not going well and hasn’t been for so long now.

He apparently lacks the strength in this area and willpower to make this cut definitive, despite his talk on the subject, so I must. We cannot go back to this bullshit. It must be laid to rest now. We will never be friends in the aftermath if we keep this up any longer. All will be destroyed. Too much resentment, too much water under the bridge.

I accept this and will do my part to keep us apart going forward. He claims he will as well. But I must. This is too much to keep bearing. No good for either one of us anymore. So peace be with us as we move on in our separate directions from here on out.

Journaling on a Friday evening in early February 2017

Been sick frequently this winter. Colds. Been battling this last one for over a week now. Makes me tired, has kept me indoors this whole week when not working. No desire for in-person company. Been skipping the gym lately too. Downtime. Sleeping more.

Mostly watching the wheels go ’round and ’round online during my waking hours. Observing the political fallout. Catching up on some of the news stories.

Currently listening to the audiobook The Undoing Project: A Friendship That Changed Our Minds by Michael Lewis. Enjoying it. Prior to that listened to Thomas Sowell’s Intellectuals and Race and loved it. Will be re-listening to that one again! Mostly sticking with audiobooks these days, partly because lighting in my apartment sucks. Need to remedy that.

Been cooking at home more than usual, so that’s good. Tried my hand at making lasagna for the first time in a years a couple weeks back. Turned out okay. Nothing to write home about though. Otherwise fixing other simpler pasta dishes. Screw Atkins for now. It can wait. Continue reading