A Second Poem-Type-Thing Emerges

Again, a rough draft thought up when I've been thinking too much.

I’ve No One to Blame but Me

When we met, I knew

You’d be the one I’d want

For always and forever.

I knew the road

Would be hard,

Close to impossible,

But I didn’t know

I could be wrong.

I was so sure

Of you one day loving me

I never thought of a day

You didn’t.

From the moment we met

You were everything I imagined

When I heard the word beautiful.

Your voice,

Your laughter,

Your amazing way

Of calling me out –

Perfect.

The day we met,

The look in your eyes

I knew I’d found someone

That could help me

Never feel alone.

You pushed me

To be better

But I kept you

Away.

I let my faults

Be your blame.

The day you left

I saw my mistakes

Playing before me;

Things done

And things not done –

I was the biggest of fools.

I was so sure

You could never love me

I never imagined the day

You did.

Never Thought I'd Get Sentimental Over a Car

But here I am, bemoaning the soon-to-come loss of my 2003 Dodge Neon.

A Neon was never my first choice of a car I wanted, but it was what I could afford. My plan was to have it a few years, pay it off, then use it as a trade-in toward a car that I did want. However, when that time came, I was uncertain of my future and didn't think taking on a new car payment was a smart decision. So the car stayed with me. By the time I got to a point where I could possibly get a new vehicle, I decided to just hold off and keep using this one til it died. Unfortunately, that death is nigh. Also unfortunately, my financial situation has changed quite a bit.

Thankfully my father was able to help me out in securing new transportation. And while it's also definitely nowhere near my dream car, it's not about to die (that I can tell). But as I get ready to try and at least get a few hundred dollars for the Neon, it's hard not to look back on so many of the fond memories it holds.

As a young airman, driving a Neon (or equivalent) wasn't a big deal. For the most part, no one cared so much as the airman had his own car and wasn't constantly relying on other airmen (or their supervisors) for rides to go anywhere. I was living in the dorms along with my buddy Matt Bell, who also drove a Neon. I can't speak for him, but whenever I saw an open parking spot next to his at work or in the dorms, I made sure to park next to him. We were the Neon Network and it was fun to say whenever the chance arrived.

Also as a young airmen with his brand new car, I used that car to go everywhere. While living in South Carolina, I took it as far west as Mississippi and as far north as West Virginia. The trip to Mississippi was to meet in person my friend Marlana, whom I'd met on the internet many years before and was my closest confidant. The trip to West Virginia was for a retreat with the church group I hung out with at the time. We went snowboarding at Snowshoe resort and how we didn't die on the drive down the mountain is nothing short of a miracle.

Honestly I think I could write at least a couple dozen blogs alone about my time with the car in South Carolina. There was a trip to Atlanta with my friends Ben, Kayla, and Brittany so we could see the band Bright Eyes play live. And the time I went to see 36 Crazyfists play in Charlotte, which was the first time I can remember letting someone else drive my car while I was in it cause I definitely needed someone to be a DD for me back to base that night. Also, just about any time I went to Columbia, only 45 minutes away, seems like it's own significant memory. But then I had to move to England and the car had to go with me (on account of me still working on paying it off and all).

At the point I picked up my car when it arrived over there, it dawned on my that my car had already seen more of the world that all too many people I knew. And while I never got it off the Isle (there was a failed attempt though), I sure got it around that place. All the way up to Inverness, Scotland; down to  Dorchester, England; west all the way to Milford Have, Wales (which I'm pretty sure is the town my South Carolina buddy Jared said he was from, but I've lost contact and can't be sure); and I was all over the east coast being I lived so near there. And I didn't do these adventures alone - my friends Eric, Aimee, Lily, and so many more were on so many of these trips. Aimee in particular for going to old castles and Eric for trips to Birmingham, which is an amazing city and so much of a greater time than London (in my experience).

After my time in England, the car followed me to New Mexico. It didn't see as much adventure, but there were some good times exploring the state with my bro Ryan. We made it to some ancient lava filed where we almost lost a frisbee (or flying disc if you want to be pedantic about it) and we had the chance to see the site where the first nuclear bomb was tested. In that car, in Las Cruces, NM, I also received the saddest hand job that ever happened ever, or at least that's what Ryan told me when he heard the story (and he's probably the only person I know that's going to get to hear that story, at least from my perspective).

Of course, when leaving New Mexico (and active duty air force), I brought the car with me to Alaska. Unfortunately, it didn't get to see much adventure here - it became pretty much a commuter car for me. It still got a ton of use, but just for getting me from point A to point B within the city. Even though the car didn't seem to have any major issues, I had already gotten too worried it would break down on me at the worst time. And if you're outside the city and in rural Alaska, that could be a huge issue.

And now the car sits in my driveway, awaiting its fate. I know I gotta do what's gotta be done; the Neon is doing me no good just sitting there. And if I can even get a few hundred dollars for it, that's a few hundred I can use to pay my dad off all the quicker. Plus I can take the car off my insurance and save a few extra dollars a month that way. But it's hard to let go of the fact that getting rid of the car feels like I'm getting rid of a piece of myself.

(And I know, given recent events, this blog my same like it has some sort of symbolism. Believe me, it doesn't. August and September of this year (possibly October as well the way things have been going) have been absolute shit for me. But this blog is very much about the Neon and the Neon only).

First Poem in a Long Time

OK, this is a rough draft of something that came about after a rather depressing trip to a grocery store. Will it ever be more than a rough draft? I have no idea. I like its setup, but I definitely know it could use some work. Nonetheless, here it is.
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At the Other End of the Cereal Aisle 

Out of the corner of my eye

she looked just like you.

Tall and long blonde hair

(You didn't have to look at her

to know she was beautiful).

My heart skipped a beat;

could you really be here 

in the same place as me?

Was this fate 

or happenchance 

that you might be so close?

Could I say hello

maybe rekindle the fire

that once burned inside? 

Or should I move along

knowing she wasn't likely you

anyways.

I told my heart not to hope

yet hope it foolishly did

as I turned to look her way

hoping she might be you.

My heart and my hopes sank

and again

I had only myself to blame.

This Will Be My Last Post. About My Old Relationship. Hopefully.

It's been over a month since She left. I've been told that it gets easier as time moves on and I thought this amount of time should have been enough. I was wrong. It's gotten worse. On the nights I don't drink myself to sleep, I go to bed and look at where she you once laid and wonder how I could have been so stupid. I pray to God I wake up and all these past weeks were a bad dream, that I'll wake up and she's still next to me and I can get right to work on making sure she knows she's loved and appreciated. But when morning comes I'm still alone in a bed too big for one person and I know I'm still alone in the personal hell I created.

I know I'm not forcing anyone to read any of this, yet I know some people do. And I feel like an asshole for writing such depressing shit that I'm sure they're tired of reading about (even though they're not being forced to read it). But I feel like an even bigger asshole when I think of my misery and how stupid it must be.

For starters, it's a misery I wished upon myself. I constantly focused on, and complained to my friends about, the things I didn't like in the relationship. She was, and still is, an amazing woman. She's funny, intelligent, and all that other cliche shit men say they want in a woman. And of course, She's beautiful, but I can't imagine there's anyone reading this that doesn't know about that. But on the off chance there is, trust me (and everyone else), She'd be worshiped as a Goddess among some ancient tribes for Her beauty alone. Beyond this normal stuff though, there was so much more to Her. Like Her feminism, which not only frightened me, but inspired me as well. And Her compassion for the less fortunate, which often made me wonder what I was doing with my own life. There were times just She and I were sitting on the couch watching a movie and then we'd look at each other and She'd smile at me - I felt like the luckiest most amazing man on earth then. She, despite Her beauty and charm, made me feel like I belonged. And that's something so rare for me I often find myself in envy of those that seem to always have it. She's everything I ever said I wanted in a woman before I ever met Her (and Blue82, if you ever read this, you're probably the sole person that can validate that). And I pissed it all away.

The other thing that makes me feel this is all stupid is that I know there's people that have gone through worse. People in relationships way longer that Hers and mine was and then the relationship ended rather unexpectedly (or maybe expectedly, but then one of them realized that was a mistake while the other felt that wasn't a mistake). Or, worse yet, people who've had a lover die unexpectedly without any chance of any sort of closure. And who the fuck am I to be so miserable when other people have gone through so much worse? Honestly, I'm just an asshole. I can't and won't compare my misery to theirs. But I'm not going to pretend I can somehow be a stronger person than someone else just because my circumstance is "less worse."

All this being said, I know I've talked about this situation too much. So in the future, I'm going to try and write about other subjects. Not saying they'll be more positive and/or uplifting, but they won't be about this miserable breakup situation. Hopefully.

My Own Worst Enemy

Long before this relationship fell apart, long before it even began, and pretty much as far back in my life as I can remember, I've had a horrible habit of focusing on the negative. Often to the point of losing sight of anything positive. It's not limited to romantic relationships either - far from it actually. It's been with just about all relationships I've had. Also, work, hobbies, and even video games.

I know it's no way to live, but it's also about the only way I seem to know how to live these days. Obviously, it cost me a relationship and that will haunt me til the day I die. But looking back I can only wonder what else it's cost me in life or what enjoyment did I miss out on because I was so focused on what I didn't like that I missed out on what I would like.

I wish recognizing this issue was all it would take to suddenly be "cured" of it, but I get the feeling it's going to take a lot of focus and mindfulness to rewire my brain into something a little more positive. Assuming it's even possible; for all I know I've hardwired my brain into a permanent cynical asshole. But it's worth a shot, if for no other reason than the last thing I want is to be an old man angry at the world for no other reason than anger is all I know.

Cancelled My WoW Subscription

Yes I play, or at least played World of Warcraft. Not religiously or in an obssessive way, it was just a fun game for relaxing and passing time. I use to come home from work and She'd be watching something on TV I didn't much have any interest in, so I hopped on my computer and got to my game.

Looking back, I don't think me playing WoW really got in the way of our relationship. A lot of couples have their own way of unwinding at the end of a long day and that's fine. And it wasn't like I ignored Her while I played; we carried on conversations and sometimes I would even talk about what show She was watching on TV. So until recently, I didn't think much of it. 

But I'd give anything to be able to go back and trade all those moments staring at a pixelated world for sitting next to Her on the couch instead. I don't care if She was watching reality TV, a sitcom I didn't really find funny, or some sad sappy movie - anything would be better than letting those moments go to waste.

So to hopefully avoid something like that ever happening again, I cancelled my WoW account. Also, the $15 a month it costs suddenly seems a lot more important than before I was single. 

I can't say I'll quit playing video games forever, though when I think of all the time I've put into them over the years I do feel a little sick. There's so much else I could've done, most importantly making sure someone else knew just how much I cared about them. 

Did Something Crazy Today

I'm not sure writing these is as cathartic as I thought it would be. I appreciate the people that have emailed/texted/etc. encouragement, but the truth is so far everyday has been a little worse than the one before it. I thought writing these and being honest and vulnerable would help me along (it has in the past), but that's just not the case here. Instead I find myself wondering if I should ask her to take Hamlet because when I see him it makes it all the harder to get over what was.

But before I do anything so crazy as that, I decided to make an appointment with a mental health therapist. I know that's not the "manly" thing to do, but fuck whatever the manly thing to do is. And I don't want to just get past feeling all sad and whatnot, I want to make sure nothing like this ever happens again. I look back and see mistake after mistake - lack of communication, insecurity, fear, focusing on the negative, complacency, etc. - and so much of that existed before this relationship. And I'm tired of all of that being a part of who I am.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't hope things when She and I didn't end up working out in the end, I'm still constantly daydreaming I find some way to go back and change things. But even if that doesn't happen and somehow I find myself in another relationship that should be a happy one, I don't want it ruined because I went back to the patterns of behavior that have tripped me up so often before. Sometimes I wonder how She put up with it for so long...

I Forgot About the Curtains

She came to pack her stuff while I was at work today. I was dreading this because I knew once I saw her stuff missing it would feel like it was her leaving again. And when I got home, I was right. Not that I can say I'd been making any progress, but if I had, it's gone now.

The upstairs of the house echos now. And I'd never realized just how lonely a place that echos is. And with all the color gone from the walls, I could swear I'm more in a prison than a home. I think if it wasn't for Hamlet, I'd try to be here as little as possible.

And speaking of Hamlet, I still find myself apologizing to him that his mommy's gone, that I fucked up so much she's never coming back. I don't know why I keep apologizing to him, he doesn't understand any words I say except anything food related. But I still feel like he misses her and is trying to make sense of what is going on.

Fortunately she left a lot of things she paid for, such as the furniture. Which I'm grateful for, otherwise I'd be searching Craigslist for used beanbag chairs and sturdy boxes that can double as dining room tables. The one thing I forgot about her paying for and that I might need to replace was the living room curtains. So now my living room is bared for all to see and somehow that makes it look all the lonelier to me.

I keep asking myself how long is too long to feel like this? At what point am I no longer allowed to be mourning and instead it just becomes an addiction to misery?

I'm Miserable, Thanks for Asking

Another question people some people have asked me after the breakup is "How are you doing?" And I get it, it's people being nice and trying to make sure I'm not thinking about taking a bath with a toaster. But there's really no great way to answer that question. If I decide to be honest and say I feel like I'm watching my whole future disintegrate and turn into a bad joke, most people are going to feel obligated to make sure I'm going to be OK and then they're dragged into a depressing and awkward conversation they don't want to be a part of. Yet if I say I'm fine, not only am I seriously lying, but I'm pretty much saying the last three and a half years of my life didn't mean shit to me. And that couldn't be further from the truth.

People close to me know that I wasn't that happy in the relationship and I'd thought about ending it before. It wasn't that I didn't love her or didn't think she loved me. I just felt like we'd gotten to a point that we were bringing out the worst in each other and consequently making one another miserable.

Our last week "together" was a week apart in which I knew she wasn't happy and I did nothing about it. During that week I kept thinking maybe now is the time to end it. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. And instead she did.

I thought a weight would be lifted off my shoulders and I'd suddenly feel some sort of new freedom in life, but instead that weight just managed to land on my chest and I feel like I'm in a joyless prison of my own making. I never knew you could actually vomit from being upset; I thought it was just something drunk girls said to cover for drinking too much. Turns out you very much can. The only thing that really gets me out of bed is having to take Hamlet out and that's always soul crushing. He's always sitting by the window looking out and I know he's looking for his "mommy" to come home. But he's a dog so it's not like I can tell him, "Sorry dude, it's just not going to happen anymore."

Otherwise I'm usually just staring at the ceiling or the wall wondering if I'd just called her in that week before, would I even be in this situation?

Or do I even have a right to feel so low if just two weeks ago I thought breaking up would've been the best idea?

Ironically, for all the time I'm spending in bed, it's almost impossible for me to fall asleep. Most days so far it's taken a lot of alcohol and even then I don't sleep nearly as long as I keep hoping to.

All that said, I know I'm not the first person to go through a breakup like this (probably won't be the last either). I know the world is going to keep turning and trees will keep growing and given time, I won't be so miserable. Though I'll likely be a little more cynical than I was before, eventually I'll find joy in the world again.

And so rest assured coworkers and friends worried in the coming days/weeks/months/years that I'm just going to have awkward conversation about missing my ex and being lonely, I'm actually going to put on my best stoic face and get on with life as normal.