Still walking

What does that say about me?

Spoke to L the other night and she said something that made me pause.

I’m always the fling, never the girlfriend.

Her comment was a general comment, not directed at me, but it reminded me about things from both my long and recent pasts that were directed at me.

About eight years ago, I briefly dated this beautiful and wealthy trust fund baby. One day she said, “Guys always treat me like the side dish. I want to be the main course. You’re not going to do that to me, are you?”

For reasons that still escape me now, I told her I didn’t know. After some crying and choice words from her, I found myself taking a 2AM walk home. Not the first, not the last.

Also saw Blue Jean Eyes again recently. She and I both want something, I suppose, and we get along so well but

Don’t you find that the most hateful words come after the word but?

For the last four women that loved me before Blue Jean Eyes, my but was my insomnia – and the subsequent irritability, moodiness, arguing and general insanity.

For both Blue Jean Eyes and me it’s the choices we’ve made in life but Blue Jean Eyes’s also concerned by the choices I might make in life.

Returning to L and her comment, L asked, “What does that say about me?”

Once again, I didn’t know and once again, I thought about it on a 2AM walk home.

What does that say about me?

Location: @9:42PM, Times Square
Mood: thoughtful
Music: I should know better, your dreams are never free

Bits

My day started off at 5AM when my windows flew open because of the wind, freaked the snot out of me, and dumped my bed with dirt.

Sitting there in the dark covered with debris in the howling wind, I thought, Yeah, sure, that’s about right.

And that’s the thing about my life – like everyone else’s I suppose – the misery bits are layered with the ridiculous bits.

Case-in-point: Blue Jean Eyes loved Mac & Cheese so I went out and bought a freezer full of various types because, well…ok, I have no explanation. I just did.

However, since we just parted ways, my last five meals have all had something to do with mac & cheese (eg: mac & cheese with a sandwich, mac & cheese with soup – you get the point).

Since I’m counting, my last four dates/relationships were with pescetarians from New Jersey.

Note to self: Stop dating pescetarians from New Jersey.

Time to microwave dinner. Wonder what’s on the menu…

Location: @2PM, shivering in Queens
Mood: dirty
Music: she takes my breath away Pretending that she don’t miss me

If only

Thus ends my first post breakup relationship

Her: I love you.
Me: Ah, if only you did.

Well, that all went to hell.

But to quote a close friend:

It’s better to be the star of your own movie than have a cameo in someone else’s.

I did that the last time around.

This time, no matter how much I wish it weren’t so, I decided that I’d rather be by myself than play a cameo ever again.

I know I’m not perfect
(trust me, I’ve checked)
but I’m good enough to be
nobody’s damned,
wait-and-see.

Once a lifetime,
no matter how I feel,
once a lifetime,
it’s enough for me.

Sigh. Those blue eyes though…

Location: @6:12 PM, saying goodbye to the east side
Mood: sad
Music: I wish that I, that I could stay

Love and Pride

Met up with the Ex one last time

I’m tired – my insomnia’s returned. I’m running about at half-speed and, more stressing, half-wit.

Saw my ex again a few days ago. She came by to pick up one last thing she left here. It was actually pleasant. She and I both managed to crack a smile or two.

Told her that I was seeing someone. Nothing yet, I said, more the chance that it could be something.

She nodded and slowly smiled and said that she hoped it worked out for me.

I believe her.

She also said that I should get a handle on my insomnia because it was a major problem in our relationship. The irony of her comment was that it kept me up all night despite a massive amount of chemicals.

But the other thing that kept my past girlfriends and me from being happy, I realized, was pride. Admittedly, it was usually mine. It’s a horrid sin.

Our respective pride has not served my ex nor me well.

Regardless of who I end up, I’ve decided to choose her over my pride.

Pride enables you to say, But at least I was right, to an empty room.

And I tell you from experience that there’s no more deafening an echo than that.

Location: in front of a nice warm cup of espresso
Mood: busy
Music: love is stronger than…it’ll serve you longer than pride

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I wish I knew what it was like to be free

The Ex and I spoke today – it wasn’t bad. Which itself is bad.

Yet another tom otterness life underground picture

It’s Sunday according to the clock but the day was Saturday.

It’s been a weird couple of days but the weirdest thing is my ex called me at 8:27 this morning – the fact that I had only fallen asleep a couple of hours earlier (another story entirely) didn’t help matters.

Weirder still, we had a pleasant conversation. But I got off the phone with her after a bit because I could sense that I was feeling old feelings again and I’m not looking forward to being disappointed once again.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Think the real thing is that I know that the woman I loved so, is gone; this person looks and sounds like her, but it is not her. And like I said earlier, while I look and sound like me, “it is not I.”

And I’m sure it would all end up the same way.

Didn’t believe it before when people told me I would learn to love being free but I’m learning. Wish I knew what it was like to be free.

Told Blond Doctor that you can’t put the toothpaste back into the tube.

You really can’t.

Location: @9:00, doing a split in Fort Lee, NJ
Mood: Curious
Music: love but we’re not the same
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Changes

Getting your ex off your cell / mobile phone plan is a lot like a divorce

Tom Otterness, Life Underground sculpture

Went out with some friends the other night and I met a girl who recognized me from years ago. She’s 24 years old and an art director now but it turns out that she went to the same church as No. 3. Moreover, some 10 years ago, she was in my apartment, when I was 23 and No 3. was 22, and had a “sleep-over/retreat” of some sort. Vaguely remember it. She was 14 at the time. Felt old.

So very old.

My friend signed his divorce papers yesterday; it’s sad because I was part of his wedding and I thought it would last. It actually the third wedding that I was part of that ended in divorce. I spoke to him today and he said he was fine (he sounded fine) but it was still sad to hear. His best friend dropped me a line about the situation too; it was good to hear from him. It’s good having friends that worry about you.

Speaking of which, my ex contacted me this week. It was the first contact we’ve had with each other for two months. Nothing angry or kind or anything. Just business. She wanted to tell me that my health insurance would run out at the end of this month (I’m currently on her plan) and she would like me to spin off her mobile phone (she’s currently on my plan).

Hadn’t thought about it or her for a bit. Well, that’s not entirely true. Try not to think about it or her.

Dunno…for me, it’s a little like signing divorce papers.

How disappointing.

Location: @ 3:00 – having a burger on Grand Street
Mood: disappointed
Music: Hol fuer dich den Stern vom Himmel
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Not Me

Yes, but it is not I

St. Augustine was a guy who lived a pretty sordid life until he found God. He was walking down the street one day and he ran into a prostitute he used to frequent and she called out to him, “Augustine, it is I.” To which, he replied without stopping, “Yes, but it is not I.”

So I have now been single for 31 days. I woke up yesterday after seven hours of sleep and went into the bathroom and looked at myself and I saw a face I hadn’t seen in years look back me. Last night, I slept for another seven hours.

Today I went to see my doc and I took something called the PHQ-9 test, which is basically a test of depression. 30 days ago, my score was 24 out of a possible 27 meaning I was pretty baked. 15 days ago, I scored 19.

Today I scored 6.

Felt good enough to call an old friend and make sure that I never went back. And then I hung up knowing it was finally over.

I once wrote that I had been here before and I had. Back then, took about a month to get past the worst of it and another four months to get back the remaining bits and pieces. In between that time, I knitted myself back together again (literally and figuratively). I know from past experience that I’m most likely going to fluctuate between a 3 and a 9 over the next several months, because that’s what happened last time. But that overall feeling of sadness is gone. That’s the good news.

The bad news is that I’m not sure who I am any more. I’m not really sure I ever knew. The last time around, after I picked myself up, I was just a patchwork of pieces. Even No. 6 said I wasn’t ready for a relationship yet and maybe if I listened to her, we’d be happy right now. She once wrote that “It’s like dating two people and I never know which one will come home.” One of these two, she called a “monster” because he was always irritable, tired and moody.

It’s not so much like a split personality where you don’t know what the other you is doing, rather, it’s like when you’re intoxicated: You know what you’re doing but sometimes you don’t know why you’re doing it.

It’s easier for me to know who I am when I’m with someone because I can always blend into the other person – like Samanderic from Lord of the Flies. My college friends always joked that I have a million jobs and a million interests. But it’s not so much that – rather it’s my need to be able slip in and out of work and lives. And when I can’t slip in and out easily, like this past month, I stutter and stall.

I waited a day to write this just in case it was just gas, but no, I’m good again. I’m not great, I’m not whole, I’m still a bit busted up and dented in places, but I’m back.

I just don’t know who’s back.

I guess I’ll figure that out as I adjust to single life. I’m going to work on clarifying what I do and who I am in the next several (weeks? months? years?)

I started some projects, one of which will be a proper blog that will replace this one (yes, Nadya, you have to come with me) but I’ll continue to update here until that new blog is in place.

I’m back, but it is not me.
Location: @12:34 – Scoring a 6 on 71st Street
Mood: relieved
Music: I’m free
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