Month: July 2017

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personal

Disclaimers

Filling time

Me: You’d make a great girlfriend for someone. (flustered) I mean, not for me – we’re not right for each other – but someone.
Gradgirl: (laughing) You know, Logan, you don’t have to constantly give disclaimers.
Me: It’s the lawyer for me.

Been drinking less these days. Kinda. Which means I’m dealing with reality more. Kinda.

Got several writer friends of mine that tell me I should write down everything that happened for the future.

They’re right but I can’t do it yet. Leigh’s husband said that my memories of Alison are like loving pet porcupines; you want to pull them close, but you can’t.

That made me laugh, but it’s true. I think of her and then it’s too much to bear so I immediately distract myself, filling my time however I can.

Him: Oi, c___ty. You ready to come roll?

On that note, the owner of my old gym – an Aussie – told me to swing by, which I did before the weekend. It’s a weird sport where you literally, not figuratively, choke someone’s wife and they both give you a hug.

He and Kung took me out to lunch afterward.

I seem to break down every time I see people I’ve not seen since Alison was pregnant.

Me: (wiping eyes) I’m sorry guys. I can’t keep it together. I’m always two seconds away from waterworks.
Him: You think we didn’t know to expect this? 
Me: I’m told I give a lotta disclaimers.
Him: We’re mates. You don’t need to. You do whatever you have to do to get through this.

And that’s what most people are telling me. So I do. Told him that I’m meeting women here and there just to pass the time when the kid’s not around.

Him: Are you using an app?
Me: (pointing at self) I’m using this face and my personality.
Him: (laughs) That works?
Me: (shaking head and taking a drink) I’m as surprised as you are.

Location: my old desk, wondering what to do next
Mood: resigned
Music: Sometimes in my tears I drown, but I never let it get me down

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Mentally checked out, but home

The other part of the weekend


Been chatting friends and strangers a lot lately. The friends are people checking in on me.

The strangers are just me trying to remember who I was before Alison.

Some people are better with conversations at bars and clubs, others are better out and about. I’m the latter.

Me: I feel the need to tell you that I’m not following you.
Her: (surprised) What?
Me: We got onto the train at the same time, got off the same stop, crossed the street at the same time. I just didn’t want you think that I’m following you. (pointing) I live over there.
Her: (laughs) Oh, ok. Thank you.
Me: (holding out hand) Logan.
Her: (takes hand) Gabrielle.
Me: Hello, Gabrielle. Nice to meet you. You’re French, I take it?
Her: (laughs) Yes.
Me: Lovely. (turning away) I’m…I’m just gonna keep walking this way. (turning back) But maybe I’ll see you around the neighborhood?
Her: (smiles) Maybe.
Me: Goodbye, Gabrielle.
Her: Goodbye, Logan.

After I met up with Kung and Nadi, met up with other friends, all of whom already have nicknames courtesy of my gym. Kong, Panda, Mouse, etc…

Me: Man, I’m already lit.
Him: Logan, you are way too old to talk like that. Way, way, way too old.
Me: Why do you hurt me so?
Him: Because you’re old.
Me: That doesn’t even make sense!

Somehow, Mouse and another girl end up arm-wrestling on the floor of the bar, which is a story in itself. Mouse won. She was one of the people that ran for Alison.

Stumbled home just after 1AM. Took forever to fall asleep.

Met up with someone we’ll call Artistgirl for lunch. She’s going through a breakup.

Her: My thing is obviously a lot different.
Me: (shrugging) Everybody’s grief is grief to them. On that note, I should tell you that I will probably randomly start to cry.
Her: We’ll sit in the back.

Ended up going to a total of three bars across several hours with her. That’s also a story for another time, I suppose.

Stopped drinking so much last week. Because I have to start being OK with reality again.

Also because everything is just a copy of a copy of a copy again. And I’m just trying to clear my head somehow.

Her: Are you home?
Me: I’m home. I’m mentally checked out, but I’m home.

Location: same
Mood: same
Music: Feels like love is a losing game, that you can’t dodge the pain

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It’s called Brunch

Meeting up with friends

Burgers and Lobsters at Burger and Lobster

My friend Gradgirl came by Friday night for a movie.

Her: I brought vodka.
Me: You know I have a ton of rum, right?
Her: (shrugging and pulling out a bottle of vodka from bag) Just in case.

We ended up drinking far more than either of us intended.

Her: I have to crash here.
Me: OK. You’ll get a donut and coffee for breakfast.
Her: (laughing) Why?
Me: You’re my guest. My guests get a donut and coffee for breakfast.

Then Saturday morning met up at Burger and Lobster with my friends Kung – Alison was the girl in the third convo in that link – and Nadi. It’s been ages since I saw them. They’re part of my friends that knew Alison so it was difficult seeing them.

Managed to only break down twice with them, which, trust me, is a huge improvement.

Me: The truth is that I married Alison because she was the only person I knew I could be faithful to. Once I met her, I knew I was done.
Nadi: (laughing) Oh, we all knew she had your number the day she met you.

Which isn’t to say it was all tears and rain.

Server: OK, who ordered the pineapple cider?
Me: (turning to Nadi) Ummm, her?
Nadi: Sheyahright.

Kung ended up buying us all brunch.

Me: (to Kung) Thanks for…lunch? Breakfast?
Nadi: (exasperated) Brunch! It’s called brunch, Logan.
Me: I’ve been dealing with a lot.
Kung: Anytime, Logan. I’m right across the park.

Pineapple cider

Location: home, making eggs for the boy
Mood: tired
Music: You and me, always between the lines

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Dull and vicious

So little that’s good or noble

Missed a meeting for the first time in…

Can’t remember the last time I missed one, actually. Neither personally nor professionally.

Been late (rarely) to appointments but I’ve never missed one completely.

The past few weeks have been a blur of alcohol, women, and extracurricular activities.

Me: There’s a pretty good chance I’m going to make a pass at you at some point this evening.
Woman at bar: What? (laughing) Really, why?
Me: (sighing) Well, I’m heartbroken and you seem nice.

Still try to go the gym at least four times a week just to force myself to clear my head.

My timing and stamina is off. Everything is off. Feel dull and vicious. Almost got clocked in the head with a stick the other night.

On the plus side, July 2nd was the first day in over two months I didn’t cry.

On the negative side, July 2nd was the only day in over two months I didn’t cry. And part of that was due to a malfunctioning washing machine that day, as well as a spectacularly chaotic night that ended up with me getting home at 4AM.

Feel it necessary to point out that all this only happens when the kid is away at my parents home or Alison’s parents. I may be a mess but I’m a responsible mess.

Speaking of the kid, when he’s here, somehow manage to pull myself together. Without being overly dramatic, the only reason I’m alive now is because of him.

Merely a statement of fact.

Don’t think I have the words to describe the love of a parent to his/her child.

But it’s the kinda love that enables one to live in a world one wants no part of any more.

And it’s true. Left to my own devices, I’d try to see Alison again. I’d be the Orpheus to her Eurydice.

I’ve had enough. Been through enough. I’ve lived a full life and I’d like to stop hurting now, if possible. But that’s not an option for me.

So I exist for him and him alone. I hope that might change later on. For now, I do what I can to blunt the hurt.

As it stands, Nate is enough reason to stay in this goddamn place I hate so.

And I do hate it. Even more than I hate myself for existing.

Different woman: You should want to live for something else besides someone else.
Me: Why? Why does anyone exist? Happenstance? Duty? Will? If you’re gonna exist, it might as well be for something good and noble. (taking a drink and shaking head) And I’ve got so little that’s good or noble left. (exhaling) On that note, what’s your story morning glory?

Location: home, with the boy
Mood: a responsible mess
Music: these most loved losses are the hardest to carry

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