Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. They’re a blur. I slept half the week away. Its the anxiety medication. Its the depression. Its wondering what’s coming next. What I’ll have to do now that my marriage is over. For a man who wanted to live for a person, a person he loved with all his heart, the dark hole is deep and wide.
I drive without thought. The cars, lights and people are nothing. They could be robots or dreams for all I care. I drive empty.
-HarmonicaFTW, For the Love of the Game
That was me 7 months ago.
That was one of my more upbeat posts.
I’m glad I started posting when I was at my lowest point. When everything seemed to grind to a halt and collapse in slow motion before my eyes. I had a blog before that one, but it lasted only a week or two before I shut it down when The Ex was becoming receptive to working it out. I was hooked on making it work. It nearly killed me.
I shorted out on working my mojo. I’d get visibly nervous when the chick of the time, LP, would call or text. Do I text back? Do I call back? What do I say? The fuck? Why can’t things just work out?
I was a mess. I cried more than she did. It was everything a Beta of the Month nomination would require, minus the begging on knees. At least I did put a hole through the wall during one argument.
I was on cloud 9 when I made smooth moves on a drunk chick at a club before I left. I rode that for a good week. Then, of course, it crashed. It rose with Maria. It crashed.
I got laid a few times. Had some experiences.
Then, it just happened. No more waves. No more searching for fulfillment. It was just there. No theme music. No moving ending.
Poof. You’re better. Move on with your life.
End of story.