There will be no more firsts.

I feel more empty today than I've ever felt..if feeling empty is a feeling at all.

It's barreling down upon me like a mountain liquifying before my eyes. A year. A year I live every day in reverse. I dissect it month by month, trying to make sense. Trying to grasp what time has done. What you and I have done.

I'm still sitting on the sidewalk.

I'm still waiting.

I'm still.

Today I laid in bed for 2 hours contemplating ways to get myself out of this life, this hellish nightmare that is my daily existance. I think of all of the poor choices that led me to where I am today. I can't take any of them back. I can't make any of them right. I'm to the point where I see little to no reason to keep going. My life is meaningless. I am a failure.

The True Struggle in Letting Go

So, you were/are in a relationship. At least it was/is significant enough to post on the internet. Nice to know I'm easily replaced...of course I'm just finding out six months later...I hope she's everything I never was. I hope you feel completely free with her, that you're no longer smothered, that you can be completely yourself. I hope she worships your god and prays to your saints, and is content living in fear and mediocrity.

Yes, I hope she's everything I'm not. I hope she likes being told to "fuck off", I hope she fights back when you're angry, I hope she takes you for granted, I hope she's high maintenance and demands your time and attention, I hope she takes and never gives back, I hope she gives you all the sex I never would, and I hope she gets sloshed and shows you the finer things in life. I hope she's an imbecile and hasn't a clue how to challenge an idea. I hope she's simple and plain and dependent. Yes, you always resented that fact that I wasn't dependent enough. I hope she takes, and takes, and takes, and rarely gives back.

I hope she's everything I wasn't.

I also hope you sell the guitar.

I sit across from a client who reminds me of myself: sad, broken hearted, full of grief. I don't know how to help him either.

The physical anguish of your loss is gone, I haven't felt it's gnawing presence in days. It's a relief, although not welcomed, because when I give up hope, there's no hope left at all. You gave yours up months ago.

Happy Birthday

I'll be celebrating big. Even if you don't know it. In my head we're eating Berea cake in a secluded B&B overlooking a valley where it's just us and the birds.

I still love you.