The end,

My name is David . I am a 39 year old man who at one point in my life made the mistake of falling in love. But, falling in love isn't the part that I really regret, its who I fell in love with, then again it's probably me.

When you think about your life, as everyone does from time to time, if you're anything like me you tend to think that you're this character in your own book. Who is this guy? What makes him tick? What does he need to survive and be happy? Like any good book you have the main character, which is me, of course. I tend to think that everyone thinks that they are the hero in their own story. A person that the reader would actively root for, and at the same time not be at all boring. I remember a line from the movie "Swingers", where the main character should act like the R rated version of themselves. A guy that we cheer for but we're really not sure that we like yet. That's me. I have moments of extreme caring and try to take care of the people around me, and to those that really have got a chance to know me, there's a very soft romantic side. But there's another side to me, I am gruff, opinionated, tempermental, aloof, and sometimes fucking mean.  But if you knew me, you'd root for me too.

So I guess that makes me the good guy in this book. It starts like any good book should start. Our hero is seperated from his family. Things take a pretty rough turn for him, but he's our hero and we continue to root for him as even though everything seems like it's against him, somehow he remains positive.

And so it goes. Our hero makes a bunch of mistakes, loses people along the way. Gets rejected by pretty much everyone he knows, and somehow he keeps thinking to himself that things will work out. But they don't. And our hero finally realizes something about himself, the world around him, and just life in general. The good guy doesn't win this time. He loses. He just dies an unhappy man unable to cope with the fact that he can't seem to make anyone value him enough to stick around. And thats the story,

I've tried. I really have. I don't go down knowing that I didnt put forth every effort I had into these things. I saw the shitty things that people do to each other. I've seen the dishonesty, the cheating, the pettiness, the lack of love. The me first attitude that plagues everyone. Its taken everyone I know away from me, and I thought to myself a long time ago, that someone somewhere would appreciate the fact that when the shit went down I was always there, but they don't.  People want what they can't have and I am the very thing you can. A loving, honest, person that takes the time out of their day to make sure yours is going well. Nobody wants that person. You think you do. But there's always someone out there that will treat you like shit, that will demand your attention more than I will. Which is why I'll always lose.

And that's ok. I've slept with over 30 women up to this point in my life. Most of which when when I was a different person. I wasn't always the guy I am now. At one point in his life our hero treated people like shit. He was a me first kind of guy. He lied and cheated, stole and backstabbed, anything to get ahead or get what he wanted. But the people he slept with, and women that he dated only wanted him because of the fact that he treated them like shit. Along the way though, something happened. He saw something in himself that made him angry. He hated the way that people were so controllable. He thought to himself, what if you just do the things you want to do, tell people the absolute truth about how you feel, and just overall be honest with yourself, how would that work?

So the first 12 years of my adulthood I slept with over 25 women, the last 10? Four. I just don't have it in me anymore, friends. I feel like I'm reading the novel of this man, and he's so broken down and sad and near the end of his journey that he just doesnt have the will to fight anymore. Fight for what? All he's ever known is heartbreak. And every time he puts that heart on the line for someone they disappoint him.

"Don't ever stop telling me how you feel.", said a woman that I am still very much in love with. But as much as those words meant to me then, and for a very long time. They turned out to not be true either. This was the final dagger in our heroes heart. He had convinced himself that a person that felt that way about him was the end of that very long road he had traveled. Sure, she was married. Sure, there was every obstacle in the way of them ever being together but our hero was sure he'd overcome it. He loved her in every true sense of the way. His acts of kindness towards her, his love, his want of understanding came from nowhere else but out of the true sense of the word itself. Love. He felt a love he had never felt around this woman. It was without effort, It came from him like he was programmed to do it.

She was a person in which he saw his own wants, and feelings. When she opened up to him, he saw himself. A person let down by every person that was supposed to take charge and make sure she didn't feel unloved, cherished, important. They mirrored each other for awhile, giving and giving. There was never any taking. More obstacles were placed in the way and even though she was distant. He still knew he had her heart. Or at least he thought.

Every time she beconed, our hero came running. Whenever she needed a lift, he would be there to try to do what he has always done, and that was to make things better. And he tried, His thought was someday, she'd see him for what he really was. Just a man that really loved her. One that wouldn't slight her in front of her friends, one who wouldn't forget she existed. One that would challenge her to be better than she was, to achieve the things that she wanted for herself, and to make her life as fulfilling as it possible could, He hoped that the day would come where she would love him again.

He was wrong.

She wasn't any better than anyone else. She hadn't loved him as much as he thought that she did. For everytime that he was there for her, when he really needed her to talk to she vanished. She asked him one day to hang out, because her husband treated her like shit. And knowing she could use a friend, he made time for her. But when he lost someone in his life, and was having a rough time of things. where did she go? He never stopped telling her how he felt. But she stopped listening. He would have never did that to her. Add in the fact that she was contemplating sleeping with someone else, and that she chose to be with that person over him. He realized what his worth was to her.

Nothing.

It broke his heart worse than anything he could possibly have imagined. Our hero, no stranger to heartache, no stranger to knowing he was wrong about people. Felt something he's never felt in his life.  He felt hopeless. He's always had a little bit of hope left in his pocket, but now he has none.

He doesn't know how to deal with his feelings. He still loves her more than anything, but now he hates that he does. He hates that he doesn't know how to make it go away, to make her stop coursing through his head. He hates the fact that no matter what thoughts he has about her, its the love that keeps pouring through. He hates that every person he could be with, or person that might interest him is shadowed by his feelings for her, Feelings for a woman. who he finally has found flaw with. A woman who honestly treats him like someone who'll always just be hanging around waiting. He is a doormant. What can he do?

So he decides to do the only thing he can think of to end it.  He leaves.

Know this. I would have done anything to make you happy. I never put your needs ahead of my own, even to my own fault. I would have moved heaven and earth just to see you smile. And now that is gone.

Love

I dont know why this has been so hard for me to write. I've been thinking about it a lot these last couple of weeks. I've come to the conclusion that I'm still in love with someone from my past.

 I'm still jealous. I still have real feelings of want, hope, desire, as well as jealousy, dread, and nervousness. It occurred to me at this point that this is totally and beyond anything else, beyond my control. You don't get to choose who you love. You just love who you love despite yourself. Despite what might be best, despite what might be easiest, you love them.

 My life has been filled with people that would be easy for me to love. They want me, they want to be with me, they might even be good for me. But theres something indescribable about someone that you're in love with. You think about them all the time, you get nervous that your actions may or may not jive with them, you worry that someone else may be better for them than you, or that that someone else may catch their eye. They make you be better, better than the person you are, because they make you feel like they are worth it.

 I've tried, lord knows I have. I tried for her sake and for mine. I tried letting go. I just can't. Even if I never talk to her again, I will love her. I will still be in love with her. I can't stop it, ignore it, or make it go away. To be perfectly honest, I don't want to. She holds within her a feeling that I've lost. A feeling that I've never felt before, or at least one that I barely remember. I felt accepted. Loved beyond reason. I felt like the best. I've never felt like the best at anything. But, I was the best. The best at loving her.

Names we don't mention

I found this on my way home written in Spanish and came home and translated it:

There are names we don't speak of, names we don't mention to anyone, and yet they are with us and only us, like a part of the dance that make us feel alive. Deep down in the memory of our amnesia

I've felt like this for the last few years. I barely speak of the names that have dotted my heart these last few years. The truth is I'm exhausted. And beaten. I don't know if I have anything left to give.

People feel foreign to me. Women feel like complete alien creatures. I obviously have no clue how to make one happy let alone keep one. So why try? 

Going into work every day I have to put on this mask. I have to become someone else just to make it through my day. Because the person I truly am would be frowned upon. I am too much a realist,  and too old fashioned.  I believe in things like truth and honesty. I believe that the things that come out of our mouths mean something. Our words are all we have. They shape what others think of you. 

Anyway,  happy teenagers without a care in the world and being surrounded by people on perpetual vacation puts one in a sour mood when you're already kind of batting 0-100.  I feel old for the first time in my life. Old and unloved.

I'd give anything to go back a few years ago. Just for one day. Give me solace. Just a little respit so I can continue my journey.  For today I am tired, sad, and alone.

Montrose Harbor

If there is a story of my life, then the index of that story would be Montrose Harbor.  There is no other place on this earth that connects my life quite as much as there. I know most people who know me would say Wrigley Field, and that's partially true, but memories can't quite hold my attention at Wrigley as this place does. The spectacle washes away the memories, and makes me live in the present. 

Being at Montrose Harbor is like opening the book of my life to the index. I stare out at the lake, and the cityscape backdrop and remember everytime I've been out there. Good times and bad. Triumphs and heartbreak. 

I have been both blessed and cursed. I have a silent companion following me for most of my life. He joined me on this journey of mine as a small boy, and has reminded me ever since of the finality of it all. Memories are all we have, and if we don't take care. If we don't make a conscious effort, then we lose them. 

I learned that early as I struggled to remember the face of a woman I wished I had around today. I long for the sound of her voice. I struggle at a memory of an, "I love you." The only unconditional love that life has to offer was ripped from me so swiftly, that I wasn't prepared. I didn't stock up, I didn't know. 

But I know now. Maybe to a fault. Most people would kill to have a memory like mine. I take stock. I hoard every moment of beauty in my mind and in my heart for fear of forgetting. For fear of them running out or my loved ones leaving. Because that's all I'll have. Memories. 

I go out to Montrose Harbor. I go out sometimes to make memories. To hold dear the people I love so much. To rollerblade on a hot afternoon. To make love pressed up against a tree. To steal glances of the sun cascading off a woman's back as she take a picture of the sunset, and so I take a picture of her. Because it's truly one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.  

I've had dates there, beers with friends while watching the sky turn from beautiful blue to dark black. I've felt the sun kiss my face and had sweat pour from my brow. I've made love, started love, and fell even deeper. I've had the hat blown from my head, and lost more times than I care to remember. 

One day, my silent companion will come for me. As I've gotten older, I know the time ahead will start to be less than the time behind. I judge my life on good days. I know how to make a good day, and for awhile I tried to make those days better than the last with the people I love. 

One day I hope I can start my streak again, try to make each day memorable somehow again, not for me. But for someone. Because sitting there... it isn't me my memories are focused on. It's the smiles and faces, kisses and hugs, lust and love in the people that I have loved. 

But today I am just a visitor. A visitor in the memories of my own life.  

For you...

From the beginning of my life

I have been looking for your face

but today I have seen it

Today I have seen

the charm, the beauty,

the unfathomable grace

of the face

that I was looking for

Today I have found you

and those who laughed

and scorned me yesterday

are sorry that they were not looking

as I did

I am bewildered by the magnificence

of your beauty

and wish to see you

with a hundred eyes

My heart has burned with passion

and has searched forever

for this wondrous beauty

that I now behold

I am ashamed

to call this love human

and afraid of God

to call it divine

Your fragrant breath

like the morning breeze

has come to the stillness of the garden

You have breathed new life into me

I have become your sunshine

and also your shadow

My soul is screaming in ecstasy

Every fiber of my being

is in love with you

Your effulgence

has lit a fire in my heart

for me

the earth and sky

My arrow of love

has arrived at the target

I am in the house of mercy

and my heart

is a place of prayer. 

I met someone...

I ran into a customer from years back the other night. Right after I found out my brother was having heart problems, and was in the hospital awaiting test results.  I went out to get drunk for the first time in long while. 

I kind of just had it at that point. I was sick of the offerings that life had given. Just shit upon shit. I had just spent the day thinking of how shitty it was to be alone on valentines day again, just to recieve word that my brother was in the hospital, and with him being morbidly obese, I was deeply concerned for his life. I started to think of the time I wasted, of the time that I never spent with him, or his family. 

I told Bill that I needed to get max's drunk. Max's is this shit hole of all shit hole bars. I mean the place only has two tap beers, old style and Busch. It's a place you go to get angry drunk. The whole scene is one of just utter dispair. 

So we went, problem was both taps were out, and while the selections are bad, they are cheap. So we left and walked down to the next bar, which is carols pub.  As we walked up, there she was, this waitress that I've been trying to talk to for the past five years was. We stood outside and caught up for about five minutes. Then we went in. 

All night, she stood next to bill and I chatting, and everytime she went to have a cigarette she grabbed me and took me along with her. Bill kept telling me to get her number all night, and on the last time out she did the job for me. " I've bartender for the last ten years", she said. "I've never given my number out to a customer ever."  "You were my customer first", I said. 

So I waited a day to call her. I was too hungover to want to talk to anyone the next day anyway. I picked up the phone Monday afternoon and she picked up. We talked for about an hour and a half and got off the phone. I told her to just call or text me when she had a minute. 

Two hours later we were texting again, pretty much all night. We planned on getting together Thursday for trivia. All in all not a bad first time talking. 

Tuesday after I got off of work we were texting back and forth and she asked if I would call her. So I did, and we talked about 4 hours on the phone. She said she didn't want to wait til Thursday to see me, and wondered if we could hang out Wednesday after I got off of work. I said I'd like that so we got off the phone at 2am. With plans to hang out later that day. 

Wednesday came, and she was supposed to meet me at work after I got off. She texted me that she was down the street at the cultural society, and I should come find her in the ballroom. I thought that was kinda sweet and romantic so I agreed. 

I was nervous. For the first time in years I had butterflies in my belly. My hands and arm pits sweating.  I walked up the stairs to the ballroom and there she was. All gussied up and looked really pretty. I sat there and watched her for a minute or two. Just taking in her, and the thing that I was venturing into. 

I walked into the room and she hugged me, we went room by room looking at the exhibits on Chicago history, and ventured into this room on Chicago jazz history. She spun around and looked at me, looked deep into my eyes and we kissed. And it was my first kiss on a real first date in about 5 years. On our way out she signed the guest book with our initials and the date, and wrote next to it...first kiss. 

I asked her if she'd like to take a walk with me through millinium park. And we did. We talked and walked and ended up on a path towards navy peer. We made a snowman. Something I've been wanting to do all winter. 

After awhile of walking, I could tell she was getting a little cold, so we ventured back towards the city, and she asked where I wanted to go. I held her hand and walked her up to the brown line sign and I put my hands over her eyes and asked her to point. She pointed to Diversey. So we made our way there, and I knew where we'd end up going. 

We went to the beercade, which was the most brilliant idea ever, because it's pinball machines and PAC man and really good beer. You'd have to not have a pulse to not have fun there. We stayed for a while. And it was nice to have someone all over me again. To have someone I liked touch my face, kiss my neck, say nice things to me. We made out and she made a comment about being glad I'm not afraid of PDA. 

We left the beercade and ventured over to another kind of hole in the wall bar. We sat and talked and canoodled in the corner.  At that point I had to be up early and she put and end to the date stating I needed rest and that we'd see each other later that day. We curled up together on the red line until it was time for me to get off at Wilson. 

I walked home happier than I have been in a long time. It was one of those nice nights that come around only once in awhile. Reminded me of the me that I like. The me I always wanted to be.  

It also reminded me that people, are not what they seem to be. And on Thursday, the other shoe dropped.....

Thursday morning, I told her that I didn't think that my friends wanted to do trivia. But if she wanted we could still hang out and do whatever she wanted. She seemed fine with that. I was at work and with not a lot of time to text waited until I was off work.  

I told her I was gonna go home, and take a nap and then get ready. She told me she was gonna go buy some paints and boots. So I should just text her later when I woke up. That was all fine and good, until I got to the stop near my house and she texted me that she might stay in, and that she just had a panic attack in the paint store about what she was doing with her life. Then she said she'd stop bothering me, and that if I still wanted to see her to just call when I woke up. 

So I took a nap. Woke up and texted her that I was awake. She asked me to call and she said she was in a pissed off mood because one of her friends submitted her work to a beer company and they thought they might like to use her work for beer lables. That should be a good thing right? No....apparently the other people that they used before were better than her (even though her work is very good), and so now her entire life is in  shambles.  I joked and about ten minutes in asked, "so HOW are you?"  Yeah, bad idea. 

So any normal person after all this, would have been like, shit...don't go up there and meet her now you dumbass. But not me, I think I can cheer anyone up. No. False.  

Right off the bat I notice a reoccurring theme with her. She's awful to the waitstaff, and bartenders. There hasn't been one that we encountered yet that she hasn't had a comment for, or a complaint about. And at that point that was 3 returned beverages.  So we left the first place we went to, without paying, and I was almost afraid to leave the poor bastard a tip for my half drank guiness. 

As we walked she asked what I would tip a bartender, and my answer is always the same. A dollar a drink, or 15-20% of the bill. She then accused me of telling her what she wanted to hear. 

Then she told me that she still had feelings for her ex, and when I said. Yeah, I don't know how I feel about that. She started saying that she didn't know about this situation. So I got aggregated and went out for a smoke. I sat out there awhile, frustrated and kind of let down from the night I had previously, when she came outside after me. 

She kissed me, and said she was just having a bad day. And I said look, you can't do that. You can't say that you don't know how you feel about your ex, or this situation and just kiss me and expect me to forget about things.  

We went back inside and then she said that she forced herself to have a good time the night before. And at that point I was good and flustered and so I got the check. I paid and said I was walking to the train. I sat there and talked with her a bit more.  As I was walking with her to the train, I said, look...I don't know what you want, but I can't have someone fucking with my head. So if you don't want to be here then turn around and go. 

She turned. Stood there and then turned around and kissed me again.  At that point I turned to her and said, " I don't think I can do this."  And turned and walked to the train. 

Is this what's left? A land full of misfits and castoffs? People that can't stand to be happy? People that are so hurt and alone that they push off at the first sight of someone trying to be nice to them. 

There's a person out there. There's a person that would love to do the things I did on a first date. There's a person out there that would like to have a thousand first dates with me. All over and over again. Someone to explore with, keep each other guessing. Someone that's just happy to be in the arms of someone who loves them. I know who I want that person to be, and I hope one day she realizes that I'm still out here, fighting everyday trying to bring some love to the world. I hope one day she joins me, so I can finally be the person I was meant to. 

I don't know if I will go out with the bartender again. I see a lot of bad things there. But I am lonely. And I did finally make that damn snowman.  Just not with the person I wanted to. 

I may have to go away for awhile....

Valentine's day

My brother was just admitted to the hospital with fluid on his heart. Kinda fitting for valentines day I guess. 

I am a failure as a brother. I really don't know how I'd handle anything happening to him. Especially right now, and the doctors have no idea what's happening or if it will get better. 

Damn it, just damn it all.  I need several beverages. 

You...

Do you want to know why I stick around? Why it is I come back over and over again. It isn't because I'm some sadist. It isn't because I like the abuse. I do have abandonment issues, those I'm sure I've told you about.

 It isn't because I'm lonely. I am sometimes, but I fill out my days with people surrounding me that I care about. I'm still doing things that I find enjoyable. I recently went to the auto show, the field museum (to see the worlds fair exhibit that I know you would have loved), went ice fishing, and have been to more thrift stores than you can shake a stick at. 

It isn't that I'm naive, and that I think that the lust and rabid passion can be sustained throughout an entire relationship, even though I don't think that theres any slowing down of my libido happening anytime soon, and after a year and a half, there really wasn't any slowdown in that department anyway. 

No, the reason I stick around is simple. 

You are the only person I've ever met in my life that made me a better person. 

I loved who I was with you. You made me want to rise up to your level of niceness, and friendliness to strangers. I was the most confident in myself than I had ever been.That made me more open with people, not just at work, but strangers, cashiers, the mailman, everybody. I had a quick joke, a friendly smile, and a spring in my step. I liked being that way, having a feeling that you are special to someone. You inspired me, you inspired me to want things for myself again. A family, a business, a happy and fulfilled life. You inspired me to write, to love like I've never loved before. To put my whole heart on the line. To plan, to try to inspire, to prove to you that you were just as loved as you made me feel. I never felt that way before. I never had so many people look at myself with another person and have it infect them the way that we did. I never had people smile, make comments, honk horns as we walked down the street. We were that happy, you can't fake that. That's not naive, that's not even normal, it's the kind of happiness that occurs only randomly. I can't just sit back and pretend like its to be found elsewhere. I never had so many people tell me how happy we looked. 

 I walked step by step with you and discovered that there actually was a person out there that shared my joys in life, someone that made me feel that I wasn't settling on a god damned thing.  Your interests were my interests, and vise versa.  So while, the initial puppy dog feelings may go away, but i strongly disagree that they would. The things that are enjoyable to us would keep us in those spirits forever. To truly live. 

 I never once faked it with you. I never had to.  I may be wrong, but I feel deep down you felt it too.

9 months and things left unsaid..

I've been putting off this post for awhile now. I didn't want to rock the boat I guess. Why ruin a good thing? But this blog is about me. What I feel. So I'm gonna post this story. I've also decided to do it in breaks so I can breathe a bit between parts. So here goes:

About nine months ago I received a early morning phone call from the woman that I had been seeing. Nothing in her voice sounded unhappy, or worried, or even overly stressed.

She told me about a dream she had. We did our usual cooing at each other, wishing we were in bed together. 

"I have something to tell you, wanna guess what it is?"  I threw out a couple funny guesses, but I knew. She was pregnant.  

We spent the rest of the morning talking back and forth about names, Sherpas, and me trying to quell her fears about the future.  We talked until I had to go to work, but we planned on seeing each other when she got off, on my lunch break. 

She came in and I couldn't help myself to rub her belly. I kissed her and told her how happy I was. And I was. On my way into work and talking to my boss he asked, "why are you so damn happy?" I told him that I think I'm going to be a daddy. He inquired as to who it was. I said, "I don't wanna jinx it. But I'm happy."

So there we were. I asked how she was feeling, if she needed anything.  My friend showed up at that time so the three of us hung out outside talking. My best friend none the wiser that inside her was the start of a new life.  He wouldn't find out until later that night when I just couldn't contain myself. 

She blogged about it. She was freaking out a bit, but holding steady on having it. The next day I had planned on going out to spend some real time with her, but she cancelled telling me that she needed some space. That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I knew space was the last thing that the situation needed.  In my mind I just wanted to start. I wanted to start planning, start talking about the future, our future as a family. 

That's when shit hit the fan. She started railing against everything. Against me, against having the baby. She stopped talking to me. And here I was, realistically thinking about all the possibilities of a future, reading about what was happening with her body, thinking about living situations. I thought about our trips to baby stores, I thought about the day she conceived, when we talked about raising a family over lunch at potbelly's. How in love we were that day. 

I did some serious soul searching during the time we didn't talk. I thought long and hard about whether I was up to the task of all of this. Could I be a good father, could I provide? The next 9 months would have been a bitch emotionally as well. Her divorce, her family, my family, where would we live? Could I live in the same house she occupied with her husband? 

I knew I'd do anything and everything possible for her. To be the emotional support she needed. She'd want for nothing.  I decided then and there that even though it wasn't preferable, it's what I wanted.  I mean shit, I wasn't planned. I think about the fact that my mother in the end sacrificed her life by having me. Literally.  Without me around she probably would not have stayed with my dad.  

But the quiet was unbearable. I had absolutely no idea if she wanted to hold on to talk to me, if she was still deciding, or if the whole thing was over.  Not only did I worry about the pregnancy, I was wrecked over our relationship. 

So I sent texts on occasion, all the while trying to give her space. In hindsight I should have been a little more vocal. But I had no idea on how stuff was gonna play out. 

I reached a point of such great despair, that I did the unthinkable for me. I stepped foot inside a church. There's one by the old apartment that still has it's doors open 24 hours a day. So one night after midnight I went in. I lit a candle for the life inside of her. I prayed that for once in my life god or whatever entity up there would smile down on me and grant me just this one thing.  I spent a few nights there soul searching, trying to make sense of everything. For some kind of peace. 

She asked to meet me by the lake to tell me that she had ended things. I was upset. Mainly that I wasn't given a say. But a say wasnt my right. It was her life too, and it was a sacrifice I couldn't expect her to make.  

What happened for both of us at that moment was that there was a sense of relief. Not for what had transpired, but relief that even after that there we were, rolling on the cement, laughing and kissing. Making more plans for the future. 

This Christmas would have been when the baby would have been due. I think about how great, and how hard life would be. But I also think about how rewarding it would be as well. But most of all I think about how much I miss her. Because what I lost wasnt one thing that happened, what I really lost was opportunities both past and future, and the one person I wanted to share them with. 

If you truly want to hurt a person that's been hurt in the past, you don't just attack them straight away. You show them everything they ever wanted out of life, make them believe it's theirs and then take it away from them. 

Great white apartment hunter

Here's a fact about me. I've moved 5 times in the last five years.  I've always been keen on the idea that I'd find a place and just stay there.  My best friend has been in his place for the last six years.  Me....I just seem to get knocked about for one reason or another. 

Five years ago I rented a condo near the airport. I loved it. It was right next door to a supermarket. I had a car back then and commuted an hour each day for work. But I didn't mind the drive. I'd listen to sports radio or music. Once a week I'd plug in "This American Life" and just listen to the stories. Towards the end of my lease my ex and I talked about moving in together. My place would have been perfect, but it meant both of us would commute. She lived in uptown and I found myself only going home three times a week to feed and spend time with the cat. So we moved, but god damn was that a fiasco. 

We went through a apartment finding service. We went out one Saturday and looked at about 12 places. When we finally found the place we wanted. It was a few blocks from the train in Lincoln park. It was a garden apartment but it was cheap. Especially for the neighborhood. So we put in our application and down payment and waited. And we waited. And waited. Apparently we needed to get confirmation from the condo board before we could move in, problem is that the president of the board just died. And we had less than two weeks to move. 

Alex was also due to go to Florida for a week and a half at that time, which meant she would be gone on the 1st. She took off, and I kept looking, and looking. Sending text after text, panorama pics, estimated square footage and shape and size of tubs. "Just fucking pick one!", she said. "Honey this is important, this is where we'll begin a life together." 

I finally was about to pick an apartment that neither of us would have been thrilled with on the 30th. But finally after getting through to our landlord who resided in another state, he says "fuck it, just move in, we'll deal with the other stuff later." That was nice and all but that didn't happen until the 31st. And I finally got keys for the place. Rented a truck, and moved myself all the away across the city on my own. 

A year later, Alex would move to Texas, and I would load her up a week early and then have to move again. This time to uptown myself. It was a small little space. One in which I was gonna just kind of hang out and save money in, until I moved to Texas myself.  Turns out I wouldn't be making that move, and instead I'd end up just drinking my ass off and wasting two years of my life. 

I recieved a non renewal for my lease in uptown due to raising prices and I  waited too long, and because I am the way I am, I focussed on the wrong thing and ended up waiting too long to find a place. Ended up staying a month with a friend with my shit in storage.  With that I ended up subletting a place for six months just so I wouldn't have to think about or go through the process of finding a place to live. So I moved to Albany park.  

Albany park has been pretty uneventful. The commute sucks, the stores are god awful, people ride their bikes all up on the sidewalk. And there isn't shit to do over there.  So I'm moving again.  

I spent the last week or so looking at places when I walked into one and within about two seconds of seeing it said, I'll take it, right now." Left the place and went down to the leasing office and filled out the application and got approved. Gods honest truth....I haven't even seen the bathroom. I didn't even bother to check it out. It might not even have one. That's how nice it was. 

So right now I'm sitting at a Starbucks down the street waiting for my lease to be finished typing up. And then in two weeks I'll move again.  Back where I belong. 

Playin hooky

Decided to give myself a three day weekend. Bonus breakfast and footballs. We're waiting at Starbucks waiting for a friend to get off work. 

some nights...

Some nights I'm more melancholy than others. Some nights, like tonight I feel like an absolute failure. That every decision I've ever made in this life has been wrong.  Nights are when I get to judge myself, when I come home and get to pour over every decision I've ever made that has led me to this spot in my life.

I think of decisions I've made with people.  There was a girl once who I liked very much. She cared for me. She came to me one Christmas eve with presents, even though i had none for her. She came to me, because I was "on a break", with my current girlfriend. That we were trying to sort some stuff out. But the truth is, I cheated on my then current girlfriend with the girl in front of me. We went out on a drive one afternoon, and we ended up in some forest preserve and she ended up seducing me in the front seat of her car. I say seducing, because well, she did. I liked her very much, we were friend, she was really attractive, and well, my current relationship wasn't going so well. My then girlfriend was a bit of a party-er, and I had suspisions that he was cheating on me with someone else. My friend Jenny and I, had been hanging out quite a bit, and she was nice to me, she introduced me to starbucks, because she worked there. She used to make me mochas everytime I'd come pick her up from work so we could go bowling, or to the mini golf course, or whevever.

One night I picked her up from work and we took a drive. We headed out to a forest preserve to feed the deer. We were parked there late at night, and Jenny looked at me and we started flirting. She leaned over and said to me, " I bet I could undo your pants, just using my mouth." I looked at her and said," but I'm wearing a belt."  She said, "I know." Next thing I know, I'm all the way in her mouth and I'm cheating on my girlfriend. But it didn't stop me, it felt right. But she wanted more. She liked me. A lot.

That night led me to rethink my relationship with my then girlfriend Erin. If I loved her so much why would I cheat on her. Why would I allow myself to be weak. But the thing was, I wasnt weak. I was just unhappy, and unfulfilled. I didn't realize that then. So I told Erin we needed a break, that I needed time to kind of think about where things were with us. I loved Erin, but she confessed that she also had feelings for someone else and didnt know whether or not she wanted to continue.

Which brings me to Christmas Eve, Jenny, the magical pants undo-er girl, came over. I was home by myself, family all by inlaws. And she knocked on the door. She came in bearing gifts and even though I had nothing for her, she made me open them. Then we started making out, and I got her all the way down to her matching panties and bra, and she looks at me and says," If we are going to do this, if we are going to have sex, then I have to know that you're my boyfriend, that you are with me."

At that moment I knew, I knew that if I lied to her, that if I just said something like, "yeah sure". That within minutes I'd be having sex with this girl. One that I had lusted after, one that I had fantisized about. I could have had her right then and there. But I didn't. I let the truth fly. That I didnt know where things stood with myself and Erin, that I didnt know exactly how I felt. That at the moment there was nothing more than what I wanted but her, but I didnt know how I feel feel the next day, or the day after that.

I regretted that decision for a long time. She told me once that if I would have showed up at her wedding, that she wouldnt have been able to go through with it. One of my biggest regrets is that I didn't lie.

Which leads me to today. I sit and think about the woman that I love. I wrestle with everything. I think about her making love to someone else and it makes me upset.  I think about how happy she is without me, and I want to peel my skin off.  I would give anything, anything, just to feel her in my arms again. Hear her tell me she loves me.  But tonight, and probably tomorrow night, that's not me. So is this decision wrong too? I have no god damned idea, but sooner or later, one of the decisions I make has to be the right one.

about me

I've been alive for 38 years, and I dont know shit. I couldn't tell you the first thing about making someone stay, or keeping someone happy. I have one rule in my life, "Everyone leaves". Knowing that rule, is both a good thing and a bad thing. For starters, you know that since that this person that you care about isnt going to be around forever, you appreciate things more. You do more. You want to try to cram every last bit of enjoyment out of the time you do have together. But its exhausting. I get tired of starting anew with people. People that I know are going to eventually break my heart. But it doesnt stop me from trying, from hoping beyond hope that eventually that there will be someone who'll want to hang around. To build something instead of just smashing it all down, taking their ball and going home.

I wonder sometimes if my life is meant to be one of an observer. To bare witness to humanity, to feel things beyond the scope of what a normal person feels. I do things in my life that I don't tell anyone about. Things that I know that if I told people would change how they view me, would make me more vulnerable. People have a way of turning even the good things that you do into something shitty.

Case in point, my mother, while no saint, did things for those less fortunate than us. One of the things that always stood out to me about holidays growing up was that there was always some strange older person that I never met before. And there was good reason for that, they were strangers to her as well. She'd go out and find some elderly person that didnt have a place to go, and invite them over for christmas and thanksgiving dinner. She'd even buy a gift for the person so they didn't feel left out. She may have had her own demons to face, and we may not have had very much money at all, but she gave with her heart. My brother is the same way, as am I.

A week before Christmas after getting off work early, I was on the red line train and there was surprisingly a car with very little people on it. I stepped on and happily grabbed my seat, and sat down with my headphones playing my going home music. Then the most awful smell in the god damned world hit me. It was almost nauseating. It was a homeless man that was in such god damned disrepair that he had shit himself so badly that you could see it on his shoes.

A black woman walked up to this man and berated him, telling him that he should be ashamed of himself, and that he was ruining the train ride for others. Like this guy didnt feel like the dog shit existence of the bottom of everyones shoes already. I stood up and told her to leave him alone. The mans eyes were welled with tears, and it broke my god damned heart. So i asked the man if he was hungry. He said he was. I said, "come on pops, let me buy you something."

We got off the train at wilson, and I told him I was going to buy him some new clothes that we needed to do that before I took him to eat.  I got his sizes, out of him and bought him thrift everything, down to the socks, shoes and underwear.  Took him back over to target and had him strip down everything and have him take a hobo bath in the bathroom as I stood guard.  When he came out it was like a different person.

We went to the corner and I bought him dinner, and asked if he could make it to the YMCA that was close, I had called them and asked if they could save a room for him. He said he could, and I gave him the cash to get there and have a nice out of the elements and a hot shower. He thanked me, and repeatedly told me that I didnt have to do it. But someone should.

I havent told anyone about this. Why? Because I dont want the thanks. I dont want the awwwwww...what a nice guy. I did it because while I dont know what its like to be homeless, I definitely know what its like to feel unwanted by the world, like something easily cast aside. I just wanted the guy to know that not everyone is a monster.