I’d like to say my mood has improved, the car certainly has a hell of a kick to it. I’d like to say that I was happy with the (false) labor of Tracy’s niece. I’d even like to say that getting ready to leave my crappy room forever would make me ecstatic. Sadly none of this is true. My buoyant mood on Saturday morning was ruined by a lot of things in the afternoon/evening.
First was (of course) Lisa. She refuses to admit her life has changed. Still wants to be the life of the party, and doesn’t realize she needs to find a new class of people to hang out with. So I take it that she bought a shit load of stakes and beer for a party out in the middle of nowhere. Morning sickness doesn’t really wait for morning, so of course she couldn’t hold anything down. I understand why she does this. She’s lonely. In a way we’re a lot a like. Unlike me she tries to form many relationships which she is the center or at least be a part of the nuclei of a group, whereas I tend to from a few deep personal relationships. I may have many people that I am on friendly terms with but only a few friends. There’s a type of selflessness that we both share, that sadly is often misused by others. But the major difference between the two of us is what I like to call “the Moment”
“The Moment” doesn’t always happen in a person’s life, some know instinctively that it is coming and avoid it like the Plague. Others are too shallow to know it has happened, or are not perceptive enough to appreciate the magnitude of what has occurred. Essentially the moment when you are forced to face exactly who and what you are. I have had that experience, and sadly I am unable to escape who and what I am. As they say knowing is half the battle. Lisa hasn’t had that just yet, so For the time being I must sit back and wait.
Lets face it. I am not Superman, and even if I were, I don’t think I could save her from herself. Its like watching a train wreck in slow motion. I want to race in and help, but I have neither the means or the right. Besides I don’t think she’d ever ask for help. I actually think I pissed her off. I got a little preachy. But I’m not the type of guy to blow sunshine up a person’s ass all day long. I’ll tell a man, woman, or child what the score is, and they can do whatever they want with that info.
So text messages from her really soured my mood, and made me really not bale to get my drink on. Strangely enough I ended up being sober person in the “group” that I’m in. That is beyond strange for me. I’m usually the one that is plastered and Gary is the one that is picking me up. Great stuff. I was distracted all night then at about midnight, right after the bar dance, we got news that Tracy’s niece had gone into labor. Oh goody. That brought back a whole host of other emotions. Essentially that I’m the fifth wheel, in every situation.
So then I went to my room and crashed out. I’d like to say Sunday was good and that in the process of recovering I felt good about myself, but again no can do. Truth is even though Anja is jealous (haha it’s actually kinda funny Tasha wanted to steal my car even though she doesn’t know how to drive stick) and even though there is a lot I should be happy about, seeing proof that I have screwed up and dropped the ball on yet another relationship is just oh so great. Nicole is wearing the ring and I’ve disconnected with her by my own doing. I’ve screwed the pooch YET AGAIN! I’m actually getting really sick of screwing up so much.
I’ve started having nightmares about my great ball dropping. Things that I had once wanted slipping away. The “Rage Storm” A visual nightmare from my own imagination which consumes and destroys everything before finally destroying myself. Old friends turning their backs on me, and a woman I’ve loved for so long simply fading from my life because of what I have become and what I have done. I’m so tired of my nightmares.
I didn’t fight for Nicole when I had the chance, and I didn’t tell her when it would have made a difference. So who do I have to blame? No one but myself. Se what I mean about accepting who and what I am. I am not the great lover, I’m not even a really good one. If I had to compare myself to anyone in pop culture I’d probably be like Superman. Put the suit (uniform) on and I can do anything, face any danger, and save lives. Take the suit off and I’m a bumbling fool that no one really notices or pays heed to.
I’d like to believe that there Is a light at the end of the tunnel. I’d like to think that there is hope. But as time goes on, there is simply bounding from one disaster to the next. Often I never realize just how much I’ve screwed up until days, weeks or even months later. I keep looking over my shoulder. Why can’t I connect with anyone or anything anymore? Nicole says read the Bible, but even that isn’t really doing that much for me either. I keep going through the motions, but if I open myself up even for an instant, then I pay a high price for it. So I don’t feel.
Love is a funny thing. When you have it, it can motivate you to heights you never thought possible, or, in my case keep you going when everything seems pointless. In the end, if I have to use spite to keep myself going, who’s to judge me? I Am what I Am. Obviously.