How did I get here? How the hell . . .
Five years ago everything was so much more simple. The days were filled with video games, the bestest of buddies a guy could have, Cheetoes, and no true responsibilities. The world was my oyster, my bike the fork I'd stick in it as I ate it all up.
Four years ago everything was so much more simple. Weight lifting after school, honor classes, free lunch, and boyish, ignorant crushes. So much to look forward too, so much to love, so much enthusiasm.
Three years ago everything was so much more simple. High school, no job, no girlfriends, no worries. Metal music and head banging. Comedy Central and Friday-night Stand-up. Get the good grade, and you can do whatever you want.
Two years ago everything was so much more simple. I had lost everything dear to me, and survived. I got some psychological calluses from the big mess and learned a lot about who I am.
One year ago everything was so much more simple. I had my new girl, I had my new buddies. I proved I could make it on my own.
And it all started to crumble.
The house I was renting was showing signs of disrepair.
Maybe the building materials were the problem. Were they bad to begin with?
Perhaps the designers screwed up the blue prints.
The former occupants didn't keep up the maintenance.
I could have done a better job in my repairs.
Perhaps I picked the wrong lot to build on,
or perhaps I should have just bought a new house.
Maybe another house would suit me better, or perhaps no house at all.
I love you . . . yet, it isn't the same. It could never be the same, never equal. I'm not jealous, nor protective . . . not in the ways you wished. You didn't light my fire like I'd hoped you would. I felt no flame. Sure, we laughed and cried together, cuddled and made love; yet these things didn't constitute the x-factor I'm looking for. I have never shaken the belief there is somebody better out there for me. Perhaps I'm just being selfish. However, I know I can't let live my life out of fear anymore. My decisions must be my own. That's why I wanted it to end . . . and thats why I ended it.
I need to feel the wind beneath my wings. I'd rather crash and burn than to have never tried. All of our problems were the symptoms of my unease, the feeling you get when you know its going to be a bad day. Before I met you, I had been so lonely for so long. I wanted to help you, and I wanted to help me. I love making you happy. I love making people happy. Yet, it wasn't what I was looking for . . . you never felt like, excuse the phrase, "the one".
So much to do, so much to say, and so little time.
I know how to tie my shoes, take a shower, read, do work, make a joke, etc. Yet, I don't know anything of any true importance.
I'm thoroughly dazed & confused, and this time it has nothing to do with drugs or alcohol.
Maybe, with a little help from my friends, I can get by. That's the only thing that gets me to sleep at night is that my dreams are wonderful and vivid! They give me some far off hope to strive for. May love come showering down from the heavens on us all.
I love connecting to other people. I want to experience what I did with you with other girls. I love that feeling. I wish the world had different customs and views on relationships . . . but it doesn't matter anyway. Its just getting way to difficult to shake the feeling I'm useless and ugly.
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