I should have danced with you. I should have sang to you. I should have played with you. I should have made sure that you knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that you were (still are?) the center of my world. Maybe not financially as you so often made note of. But emotionally; You are the single most important person, place and thing in my life. Any thought, any dream, any tiny little inkling of my future had (has) you there with me.

Would it have made a difference?

Yes. At least I would feel less like it was my fault that you removed me from your life. I would not have the constant, crushing daydreams of what life would be like if I had done those things. I would lay down to go to sleep at night secure in the knowledge that you knew you were the love of my life. That nothing else mattered as long as you were there with me. I would wake up in the morning, alone, but confident that you made your decision not because of something I didn’t give you, but simply because you weren’t ready to totally commit yourself to me.

And then I could blame it on you.

Then I could resent you for it rather than myself. I could move on and tell the next one that you were just not ready. That we just weren’t right for each other.

Would it have changed the course of things?

That is one that I hate to think about, but can’t seem to stop myself.

What if you hadn’t told me that day. “I think you should consider moving to Alabama” you said. And I knew – at that exact moment standing there in the bathroom wearing latex gloves one size too small, the smell of hair dye, the red stained towels on the floor, the ones I thought we’d still be using when we dyed your hair 10 years from now… – it was the end of everything I held dear to me. In that instant my miserable little life of routine and complacency that I loved so much came crumbling down. But I held it in at the time. I held it together. I had to be strong. I couldn’t show you my weakness. Stupid fucking pride bullshit. In my head though… An epic explosion of sadness that would drive a “normal” person to involuntarily commit random acts of violence for months, maybe years afterwords.

You were the reason I didn’t want to move in the first place. I knew it would be pointless to even ask you if you wanted to move there. I knew that you wouldn’t want to go and I knew that you didn’t want to go when you told me that I should. Fuck, with or without you I didn’t want to move. But with you, my love, no longer willing to sleep in the same house – let alone bed – as me, what was the point of staying? I might as well go through with it and see where it led me.

Am I responsible? Of course. Yes. No. I don’t know.

If I am responsible I have nobody to hate but myself. But then again, if it was me that broke it, that means I can also fix it.

If I’m not responsible, then I’m just a character in someone else’s story and there’s nothing I can do but suffer through it and wait for my next chapter to begin.




I think I’m going to move back to Florida. I think I’m going to go there and get a nice little low-responsibility job. Something that pays the bills. Not making too much money, maybe not even enough money. Just so I can pay the bills, but still get grant money to get back into school.

I know somebody in Florida with an empty room in his apartment. At least it was empty that last time I talked to him about it.  Oddly enough I was thinking about calling him and asking him if it was still empty and he called me out of the blue today while he was out floundering. He just called to let me know they already had put two in the boat. I didn’t ask him about the room though. I think that would have been rude. I’ll call him after this week on the road is over.

If the room is available I’m sure he’d love to have me move in and split his bills with him. Cheap living for both of us. He would be a great roommate for my plan since he isn’t the type to constantly bother me to go out and drink with him.

Almost everyone else I know has moved away from that area so I should be in a good place to focus on my schoolwork and at the very least finish my AA.

Option B: I’m communicating with a few different companies in New Orleans for job possibilities. This option is… confusing. On the one hand, I’ll be in a better place to get a decent job after school. On the other hand, I’ll be closer to Her. And I get the feeling lately that she doesn’t want that anymore. And I do. Which makes it very difficult.

Option C: Hold out to see how things pan out with Adam’s new business. This one is simultaneously exciting and very worrisome.

I don’t know.  Bleh. I’m tired.

I want to get a normal job and settle down so I can finish school and get a better job.  I can see a good future in that.  I want it but I’m scared to commit to it. Why is that? Am I just too cynical? Is it the fear of taking that one step backwards so I can take the two steps ahead?

I need to do what you’ve done and cut out all the dead weight in my life so I can move forward without it bringing me down. I’m not feeling very confident about this business with Adam and I feel like I’m using him to stay afloat while I sort out my life. I don’t connect with these people and it’s not fair for me to keep pretending they’re my friends and use them to keep myself sane. But the only other thing I have is you and you feel so distant lately.

We’re both going through difficult times right now, but I’m here for you. I always will be. I promise. You’ve always been there for me to lean on and I hope I can fully return the favor with interest. God I wish I could have seen you this weekend. Even for a few minutes. It would have meant the world to me.