all gone now

[somewhere i have never travelled]
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands

i wish i had never torn up that post card, or even gone to her house that night for any matter. no. let me take this a step or two further. i wish i had never left that day on a plane for tucson. i wish i had asked her to give it a day or two, but i pushed the envelope over the edge. i wish i had come home that night with flowers or dinner in my bag and surprised her. i wish i wish i wish. its silly now to think about.

i thought that after i my life got back on track and things started looking up i would stop missing her so much, but it really hasnt been the case. there are days when it feels less severe, but its still there.

i am reminded of an old al perry song. " the one who wants me i wish would go away, the one i want wont give me the time of day" i miss tucson in some ways, but am enjoying this adventure too. i wish the adventure i had planned on having with her had unfolded instead though. i am tired of meeting women who talk too much and whom i have very little in common with. i tried, i really did, but my heart just isnt in it right now and i guess its not fair to pretend to be excited about someone when my mind is elsewhere.

im rambling. its raining. i still miss someone. she would probably think i was retarded for feeling that way about her after all of this. she made her feelings about me clear by way of a legal document. and yet i cant hate her or have harsh feelings, just sadness and missing.

Chump

Nothing can make you feel more like a chump than putting yourself on the line, exposing your weaknesses, innermost thoughts and emotions and then being denied. I dont know why I was so naive in thinking a little time would make things better, but I did. I hoped that she would see me not as an enemy, but as someone who was struggling and lost. How silly of me.

I am not an idiot, but I am a fool. Im a fool for selling everything I owned, for moving to a city with a woman I was in a tenuous realtionship with, and foolish for letting things get out of hand the way they did when I was unhappy. I am foolish for pursuing a far too broken love with a woman who likely never loved me to begin with. I am foolish for pushing her away with my actions than desperately trying to get her back when it finally came to a head. Im foolish to believe that I meant anything to her, even with my foibles and shortcomings and bad behavior. Im foolish to expose myself in this forum thinking that being emotionally honest and truly repentant would somehow make a difference.

At this point, Im sure she thinks Im a lunatic. I guess it doesnt matter what she thinks anymore. Im still deeply sorry for losing myself and for losing control and for pushing her to the brink. But how can I carry on having feelings like I do when they will probably be used against me or be seen as somehow a sign that I am not right.

You can read this every day, morning evening and night. Ill never say a cross word about her. I just wish that there had been better communication between us and a little bit of forgiveness and understanding. Life goes on. Someplace else.

when i was seven, the thing i wanted most in the entire world was this snoopy pencil box that was for sale at the yellow front store around the corner from our house. im not sure why i wanted a pencil case, i wasnt the most organized or particularly tidy second grader, but i loved the peanuts and snoopy especially. so for my birthday my mom bought me the pencil case. i remember taking the pencils and erasers out and setting them neatly on the table. the pencils were wood painted with the kind of scenes on them that when you turn the pencil clock or counter-clockwise, a series of events takes place. first, snoopy climbs aboard his dog house airplane. next he is seen donning his cap and goggles. now he is dodging woodstock. finally, his dog house air plane comes to rest on the ground again, and he is lying upside down looking up at the sky. for the entire weekend before school began i took the pencils out every day just to look at them, i smelled them, put the erasers in my teeth to feel the satisfying softness of them. i swore that i was going to take care of the pencils and other things inside, planned to use them sparingly, to appreciate them and try to never sharpen the pencils past the point of where the pictures ended.school started a couple weeks after my birthday, and i brought the case with me. i opted to use the pencils only for special occasions, and tried very hard to use other writing options. i left the case in my desk so as to not lose it or get it stolen on the bus rides to and from school. my diligence lasted for about four or five weeks. but not long after i started to forget about how fucking special the case and its contents were. i became complacent about it like children do about most things. i had a habit of chewing on my pencils, leaving teeth marks in them and biting the erasers off the end. i loaned one or two to the girl next to me whose arm smelled like cookies ( i have a very distinct memory of this becasue we played a game once in which you had to touch a body part of yours to the body part of your partner. it was not sexual or creepy like you might think. anyway, i remember the teacher saying nose to arm. and the girls arm smelled so sweet and i felt embarassed about leaving my nose there longer than i should have)soon, the pencils were gone, and the erasers chewed or rubbed down to nothing little stumps. i took the case home and hid it under my bunk bed, i felt so ashamed of myself. this is my very first memory of feeling grief and disappointment to the point that you want to smash something. i feel that way right now. i know that once you sharpen the pencil past the point of use, or you unconsciously begin to gnaw away at it, its going to be gone and you cant bring it back. there is nothing i can do now, but go back to the boring, ugly yellow number two pencils.

i never wanted to be with kristine. she was a yellow number two to me. A was a Snoopy pencil case filled with all of my favorites. I went back to using yellow number twos because I have always felt like I never deserved the good stuff and so when I had it in my life, I subconsciously wrecked it. I know this makes sense to me, and maybe not to many other people. tara understands. she knows that because of the way we were brought up that whenever we have had good things in our lives we have sabotaged them because we're afraid of having successes and love and things because we never learned to have those things. Im tired. Im not making sense. Just know.

I am superstitious about two things; walking under ladders and Friday the 13th. Tomorrow could turn out to be a very bad day for me and it makes me really rather nervous. I wish in no small part that I had stayed in Tucson for a week or two or more or until the twinges of missing her started to dissipate. I wish that I had found a more constructive and healthy way to mend the wrongs with her, but instead I tried to force my will.

I wish she believed me when I told her how sorry I was for all the wrong turns, and wish I had listened closer to her when she tried to tell me several things as well. I dont think Ill ever know how truly feels about me now, I just hope that some day she knows that in my heart of hearts, I truly never meant to hurt her, that I feel foolish for being careless with her feelings and her trust and her love, that I really do love her no matter what, and that the monster that I was at times is not the man that I know myself to be deep down.

I have to go to bed and get up early.

I miss her. No matter what. She can hate me to the day I die, and I will never feel anything but love for her and sadness at losing her. I dont care if she stomps to bits. I will still feel the same way.

Its funny. Sometimes at work I catch myself trying to hurry up and get finished with whatever stupid end of the night task it is so that I can get done in time to get home and see her. I know she doesnt think I tried, but I did. There were so many times I wanted to see her before she went to bed, or hoped shed stay up and talk to me. I was too prideful to show how much I cared. When she was away those two times, I actually sat and counted the hours until shed come back. I always wanted to play it cool because to be anything less than casual , i thought, would make me seem clingy and needy.

I had a thought today that made me rather sad. Her friend Y used to say something whenever we would leave the bar or a party, and I always liked it. She would say " take care of my girl". It made me smile inside whenever I heard that. I just wish I had done a better job of it.

Not sure where I am going to sleep tonight, but at least its not raining. Every day I work is money in the bank and money in the bank means freedom. either leaving here or finding a place and planting roots.part of me wants to go so badly when every little thing, even the internet cafe, reminds me of her or us coming here together. everything is tied to her in some way and if i can get past that, i may stay.

i want to write more, i have a lot on my mind, but I was up way too late last night/this morning. there's always tomorrow.

Last night was a blast. It was good to spend time with friends and catch up and meet new people. It made me want to be back in Tucson for some reason, instead of the constantly uphill Seattle. I slept well last night in a proper bed with sheets and a blanket that smelled nice and got enough sleep that I actually had a dream. In it, I was walking down a street. Someone kept calling my name but I couldnt see who it was. I turned a corner and lit a cigarette and she appeared. She was wearing the dress she wore the night we met but she had no shoes on. I turned to walk away, but she grabbed my wrist and turned me around. She said only three words. I forgive you. I held both of her hands and just looked at her for a long time just standing there with her hands in mine. I put my hand on her cheek and she put hers behind my head and pulled me close to her and held me close. We stood there for a long time just holding each other then we turned and walked hand in hand. that was it.

If she was reading this, I wonder what these kinds of things would elicit in her. Would she think me even nuttier than before for having such strong feelings for her after all of this? Would she believe me? Surely one must know that if after all these things one would still hold strong in their feelings that they are certainly real. I used to get irritated at feeling her breath on my arm when we were lying in bed, but now I would sleep in snow for months to have the possibility just to hear her breathe, or to feel my legs entangled in hers.

I dont give a shit if she thinks Im crazy for feeling this way. What do I have to lose? I know now what Maggie meant when she chastised me for being upset at her feelings for me.

Like a cowboy

Now that I am certain that no one is looking at this, I can write with complete and total candor and honesty. I thought she might at least drop in from time to time, but I guess I dont blame her.

I feel like shit today. Im pretty sure I have frost bite on my toes and finger tips. I didnt think it would snow last night, and sleeping on the ground is something you have to think about in advance. Tonight i will find some cardboard and sleep on it. I wish the next two weeks would either hurry up and happen or never. As soon as I get enough money saved up, things will start to look a little brighter. Im worried that when I see the boots tomorrow they will be able to tell that I am homeless and they will tell everyone back in Tucson and rumours will abound. If it werent for showers at the theater, Id be screwed. Its tough to get a new job when you smell like underpass and dirty clothes. Also, thank god for public libraries and internet cafes. Warmth. Connection to the real world.

My spirits are actually pretty good all things considered. I know that I put myself in this shit mess, but I also know that when I get on the other side of it, Ill be a stronger, better person prepared never to let anything like this happen again. I just kind of wish that I had this kind of resolve before we broke up. I miss her more than I thought I would. It will wane someday I'm sure. I just never thought that I'd lose the woman of my dreams in such a horrendous way, but, again, I blame only myself. I let my ego and self centered thoughts get in the way, and I let my anxieties control my decision making. Can you believe that I thought that being distant and removed and a little hard would make her want me more? I never learned the meaning of balance until this.
Im posting a new video to remind me of her from time to time. When i hear this song, it reminds me of the time I walked down to Asylum to see her, and she danced to this song. I try not to dwell to long on those moments, only let them roost long enough to be a good memory, never long enough to make me sad.

I hope she is well and safe and happy.

As for me? Ill sleep under the stars again like a cowboy.

Lessons from L'Orfeo

I remember not long ago a Native American man saying to me after watching me at the bus stop, "You're a coyote." It meant nothing to me at the time, only that I have always held the words of Native Americans in a kind of odd, superstitious regard. Call me a racist if you must, but I often wonder if some people have the eye to others souls. So, I was a little creeped out. What the fuck does that mean?

I was thinking about the myth of Orpheus today. While the myth involves a man who goes to hell and back for the woman he lost, his object of affection ( Eurydice) does not want to be separated from him. That is where things differ from my story. But I could not help but feel a connection to a story where a man who was once a wretched person comes to find the woman he longs to be with more than anyone, loses her, than fights a desperate but eventually unwinnable battle to be with her again. At the end, he finds that the best and really only option is to let go and begin a new life without her.

I want to write more about this later when I m not so tired. No one reads this crap anyway. Ive spent most of the last three days wandering the streets looking for shelter and trying to stay warm and dry. Im exhausted but the most clear headed Ive been in years.

A Sip or a Spoonful Wont Do

I wish I could be sitting on the edge of my old bed right now, feeling the cold and the lumpiness of the poorly laid tiles. To the south, looking out the window I could see the moon reflecting off the back of the neighbors wall and shining off the corrugated tin fences. I wish I could hear the creak of the bedroom door as one of the cats crept his way in. I wish I could hear the settling of the metal of the bed frame, and the slight turn of the wheels as they slid across the floor when the bed moved. I wish I could smell the cinnamon and apple of a candle mixed with the slightly musty smell of my ancient pillows and rarely washed, mascara stained pillow cases. I wish I could hear the sound of the cooler squeaking and straining to work, or the whir of a fan oscillating air around the room. I wish I could smell her perfume mixed with the air of booze and cigarettes as she slept and it would remind me to make this list of all the things I need to remember before leaving.

1. Know what this means. Don't take it or anything else that surrounds it for granted.

2. Know what she means and don't take her or anything about her for granted. There will come a time when you will be thankful you didn't

3. Forgive yourself for the things you did and didn't do and let them be a lessons you wont forget, let those lessons be your moral compass and let that compass point you in the direction you wantneed to go.

4. Work hard and seize this opportunity for the new start that it is. Live your life like an immigrant to a new country, show patience, and gratitude and humility.

5. Listen

6. Leave your old life behind like a snakes molted skin. What's left is brittle and see through anyway. Be new.

7. Never eat the last frozen pizza.

What more can I say? Is there anything in the world I can say or do, not to get her back, but to erase the worst parts?

When Your Expression of Love Becomes Evidence, It becomes Evident of Your need for Supression

( The contents of these blog posts are personal journal entries and are not intended as open communication between me and anyone else. Readers of this blog are here purely by happenstance or as a result of extensive web searches. By choosing to read this blog, you are tacitly agreeing that it is for entertainment purpose only, and that you will not hold it's author legally responsible for it's content in any way)

Exhibit A: Please refer to the above video.

In my mind, it plays out like a John Hughes or Cameron Crowe  film; forlorn romantic has epiphany about life and love and choices, drives around in car or walks for extended period in rain. Forlorn then makes last ditch effort to win over the heart of his object of affection by act of shameless expression through words, music or otherwise entertaining but no less meaningful bafoonery. Object of affection has trepidation but ultimately sees good in forlorn and has change of heart. Reconciliation. Cue happy ever after.

I know that it is silly. We do not live out our lives on celluloid, and often the way the world works is far more complicated and a lot less pretty. But it makes you sometimes wonder; does art imitate life or vice versa. It's such an age old question that was probably never intended to have an answer in the first place. At what point do the cues and lessons we've culled from media, experience, and mythology overlap, and when should we keep them separate? Even as a grown man, I have bought the unfounded and false notion that love conquers all, that in time, anything is possible, and that sometimes all you have to do is wear heart proudly and vulnerably on sleeve. 

It's sad and disheartening when an expression of your affection for a lost love is collected as evidence in a case against you, when what you thought was a creative way of showing genuine and real emotion is seen as an act of aggression or harassment. I've never felt so small and shameful and embarrassed. I could understand if I had made such a declaration for someone who was a stranger to me, not someone I had shared a bed with for a year and half. It was naive and maybe a little sophomoric of me, but....well, it doesnt much matter now, does it. Intentions  dont matter much. Its really all sensitive dependence on initial conditions; the butterfly effect.

I wanted to let her in to see. In private, I shared with her my fears and anxieties and made myself overly vulnerable. Some of my anxieties and fears I kept from her because to lay them bare made me feel less of a man, not because I wanted to keep her in the dark or pull the wool over her eyes.

But that is not what is bothering me right now. What is, is the butterfly effect of every wrong move that I have made in the last few months. Each and every split second or even premediatated decision I have made has produced unending havoc that seems to curve around and around with no site of its beginning or end. Each move or wrong move has led to another and another. How do you begin to unravel such a thing? Especially when your attempts to unwind it make the knot even worse? Its like unwinding strings of Christmas lights that have been buried in a box in the basement. So for every length I think I staighten out, I look down and see that I have done nothing but created a bigger mess at the other end of the string. I know that at times I have done things to make the tangle worse, but each time I try to fix it, it gets worse.

When we first broke up, I wanted to take my lumps and get over it. But I wanted to know her still and be close to her. I got frustrated at our communication because it felt stilted and awkward ( which now seems only natural).But my expression of that frustration was taken as anger ( i guess i can see why) which was met with frustration on her part which was met with frustration on my part which was met with anger on her part which was met with anger on my part which was met with excessive drinking on my part which led to really really poor, impulsive decision making on my part which was met with EXTREME frustration and TOTAL ANGER on her part which led to me starting it all over again and trying to explain how it all leads back to the fact that I love her more than anything and want to make it all better which was met with all of the above and more. So the snowball gets buried in an avalanche. How do you find a snowball in an avalanche?

From the beginning of our troubles, I never set out to hurt her. I was afraid of losing her so I hid my weaknesses from her ( or some of them). I became paralyzed by my own self doubt and fear. When the onus was on me to make things better, I couldn't . I shut down when what I need to do was fire all rockets. But that explanation doesnt sit well with her even though I know it to be true. Its another case of the snowball effect. I didnt want her to se me as anything less than perfect for her. So, I intended to deal with some of these issues on my own, not out of a desire to be secretive or hurtful, but because I didnt want to burden our relationship any more than it was. It is her own way, in some ways. She deals with her issues silently and keeps them to herself. But that created problems when I did a poor job of mending things. So the snowball... and then the boombox starts to look like a bomb and the guy holding it over his head is no longer a lover you recognize, but a creepy guy in a long dark coat. 

Humility

I decided to write here instead because I keep getting emails from friends and family about my preferred list.

I know that you might think Im a lunatic, and you arent entirely wrong. But you are here for one reason or another, and whatever that reason is is okay with me. Maybe you are just curious, or maybe you are worried about what I have to say. Whatever the reason, I dont care. Maybe you'll never read this either, which is okay, too. I am going to say what I have to say in this forum and you are free to read it or not. I should have done this all along instead of trying to get you to listen to me. If I had allowed you to come to this kind of thing on your own time, we would probably be in a much different, more civil place right now.

Through all of this shit that has gone down over the last couple weeks, I have been wondering why in the hell you went from being willing and able to at least communicate with me to not even wanting to have any contact. Then, today, I went through all the emails and gchats between us. Let me say that I am disgusted with myself and am not wondering any more.

I wont reprint the gchat from the third of January here, but let me recap briefly. I was immediately defensive with you and angry despite you telling me that you were sorry that it had come to this and that you hoped that we could be civil to one another some day. I responded with telling you to fuck off. What the hell I was thinking, I dont know. Honestly, I think the new medication I was on ( which I have since quit) messed with my brain chemistry in a negative way. I dont know why I got so defensive and angry when all you were trying to do was walk away in a dignified and civil manner. Im sorry for that, truly. I should have done the same, but because I felt, undeservedly so, that I had been fucked over, I got pissed and acted like a child. I really am sorry. I wish I had been more gracious and understanding. You deserved to have someone in my situation with you to accept his fate with dignity and aplomb.

So, even when all I wanted to do was apologize, and you were not willing to hear it, I was making things worse. It makes sense to me now how you would not want to hear what I had to say because I have more than a few times vascillated between being kind ( ish) and accepting, and being defensive, brash and rude. Im very sorry.

I guess that's it for now.