Straight Edge Life

This here would be a dumping ground for the stuff that doesn’t fit anywhere else. The uncategorizable, the unwanted, the unsuitable. The outcast and the outlawed. There are things that other people don’t need to hear. There are things that I don’t want to hear, don’t want to say, don’t want to have in my head. There are things that simply don’t need to leave this room. And there are things that need to be remembered.

I’ve told lies in my life. At times I’ve told so many that it was hard to keep up with them all. Being caught in a lie sucks, but it’s rarely enough to make a man quit cold turkey. Nichole lied a lot. She lied so much it made me stop lying. It was disgusting to be surrounded by it. Her deceptions, her dishonesty, her absolute and paralyzing fear of the facing the truth, it all added up to be one of the worst experiences of my life. For a woman with such a strong sense of self-preservation, I’m amazed she’s done so little constructive work on the core of her problem. Lies… lies and running away will only take you so far.

I did love her. And I grew to love her more as time went on. I would have stuck with her, for all her faults, until the very end. That was what marriage meant to me. It breaks my heart that it just didn’t mean the same thing to her. Even now I don’t hate her. I pity her. I pity the journey she has ahead, and the amount of suffering she will likely endure on her path. So much of it could be avoided. But I don’t know if anyone, anywhere will believe in her as much as I did. Perhaps someday she will believe in herself as much as I did. Perhaps then the lies will stop.

But it’s out of my hands now. I suppose it always was out of my hands. God, chance, statistics, probability and murphy’s law all had their parts to play. I was a minor character in this movie, hardly a director. At times I felt like an extra. At times, I still do.

I don’t need to think about today. I don’t need to think about tomorrow. All I really need to think about is destiny. Perhaps I’m meant to be a writer. Perhaps I’m meant to be a photographer. Perhaps I’m meant to be a programmer. Or perhaps I am meant to die tomorrow. The only way I will know is if I open my heart again.

If I were a betting man, I would bet that I’ll be alone for a while. Neither a bachelor or a monk. A traveller possibly.