Posted in My Daily Adventures, My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“Draw from me all that you need, I won’t deny you a single thing. Just promise that when you’re feeling okay, someday, you’ll come back for me.”

I regret a lot of things. I regret not getting into bitcoin when it was just starting up. I regret going to college for a degree in Accounting when I hate all things business. I regret not upgrading my popcorn to a large bucket at the movies last week, and using my savings to purchase an indoor training bike I have yet to assemble, and for that time I yelled at Chef Robert Irvine to use the secret ingredient peanuts to make a peanut crusted tilapia with a peanut hummus and he did just that and lost his elimination match on The Next Iron Chef. I have regrets, more than I can count, but I don’t miss those days. I don’t miss wasted money or my years in college. I don’t miss watching Food Network with friends or that savory, salty popcorn I totally should have ponied up an extra $1.50 for. I don’t miss those things, because they are still here, inside of me, as moments I can revisit any time I choose. I can regret the choices I’ve made and wish things had played out significantly different (I’m so sorry Chef Robert Irvine, you will always be my Iron Chef), but I don’t miss them. They were moments, and they happened, and that’s life.

But you? I made the monstrously huge mistake of choosing to make you my life. So you can’t become another part of my life, something to reflect on, good or bad. I knew my mistake, every step taken towards that mistake, but I still made them.

I don’t regret you.

I can never regret you.

I miss you.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Uncategorized

Can I call you? I know I shouldn’t be asking that, because I’m trying to forget you, but it’s hard. I want to drown out your noise with some music, but it’s doing nothing for me. At the end of the day all I want to hear is your voice, right next to me…

Parting lips push on the air, carrying the weight of your words towards my person. It used to be that the air you gave to me was the lightest thing in the universe. I could float on the things you said to me, glide next to the secrets you entrusted me with. It’s sad to think about that feeling now, because I can only think about what it must have been like. I’ve lost the feeling, and you’ve lost gentle words for me…no, it’s not that you lost them, it’s that I made you take them all back.

So where do I go from here?

I want to blame you. I want to blame you for this heavy burden, for my lack of self-respect, for my need to fall apart. I want to place it all squarely on your shoulders. I want to convince myself that this extra weight was your fault, so it should be your burden.

Except I know it’s not your fault.

This weight is normal gravity, I’ve just broken my own back, so I can’t stand up for myself. You stole nothing, you just stopped accepting things from me, because I had nothing left to offer that would appeal to anybody. You added nothing more to my burden. I wasted myself away into paper-thin ribbon, then threw that ribbon into the sky. I watched as the winds died and my ribbons fell. I watched as the rainy streets soaked each strip, then carried them along the curb and down into the sewer. And while I watched my dreams drown I was struck with only one thought:

I don’t care what happens to me anymore.

I have deleted every contact in my phone. I paid off my car loan and ensured I have enough money in the bank to cover my rent through the year. I made sure every gift and souvenir I once held dear was given a new home. I wrote my parents a letter, so they should be okay. I wrote my brother and sister a separate note, so they should be there to comfort our parents. I’ve written a letter for my friends, so they will know they are all wonderful people, which they should already know, but I want to make 100% sure. Finally, I wrote a letter to myself. It was the easiest piece of writing I’ve ever created, because what else do I really need to say to me? I know the who, what, when, where and why, so a long letter is not needed. All I need are simple words for a simple man, to capture my life in 1 sentence, and then I’ll be off. So to sleep I go, leaving this final sentence as my legacy:

It wasn’t all bad, and you tried your best, and know you have earned this nice, long rest.