Well, here I am - six, or more apropriately, five days from ground zero. Five days to "begin life", as some wise asses say. "Life begins at forty..."
This ain't no beggining at all. It's just a reminder. A reminder, that I need to somehow pick up the pieces and try hastenly to put my life together. Get your shit together, if you will...
But...how? How can you pick up the pieces of a life that's been so shattered away, all pieces scattered all over this vacuum inside my soul?
It's the weirdest thing. Life can REALLY pass you by. And you've got to chase it, catch it, put it together.
But it's hard, you know. Especially when you already know there's a half of the puzzle missing. A gap, waiting to filled, but not by a piece of you.
A piece...of somebody else. And no, it does not belong to the icy Lady from the southern marshes.
She's gone. I had to cut her loose. There was no love there, only...I dunno. Not even lust, to be honest. She was taking advantage of me, I think. Showing off to her friends, "Look at the handsome idiot that's still chasing me..." like I was some fucking trophy or whatever.
I dunno. I don't care. I just did what I had to do - erase her from my life. It wasn't a pain-free experience, no. She had become a friend; but I had to realize how toxic our relationship was, and that she was hindering me from moving forward.
Sometimes, it all made me feel like I was nothing but a spare tire. She claimed that she "didnt belong to anybody - I'm not a woman for one man only."
And I'm not a man that will not take this kind of treatment anymore. I don't condemn her, she's old enough to know what's best for her...but she'll need a new trophy. I'm done. I'm gone.
This is what worries me, though. I'm all alone again...well, mostly. Somehow I managed to find a new friend, a 20 year old young man, who's been more than patient with this old fool. He's giving me some insights and hope through this bleak period of my life, and I'm very grateful that we're talking.
Is it weird for a 40-year-old to seek advice amongst the youngsters? To be honest, I don't think so. People my age often scoffs at the youngsters, "oh, how little do they know about life," or some bullshit like that - well, my dear idiots, who knows more about the modern age, the modern world than the young?
Besides, I've always had a younger heart than everyone my age. Of course, it causes me problems on my so-called "grown-up" life, but I don't care. I'm not like everyone else, I've never been.
But I do have needs, too. I do crave for some intimacy. I've always felt the need to be with someone, not only for sex, no. I desire a true relationship. I don't kid myself that it will be handed over to me on a silver plate.
All I can say is that I'm trying. And I'll keep trying. For bad or worse. I do not kid myself. It's not going to be easy. But...
It's all I got left. My last shred of hope....that if I somehow mend this very defective part of my life, I can somehow become a fuller, noteworthy person, no matter how shitty my so-called adult life is.
Alas, I'm also gritting my teeth for this ride, for I know I'll most certainly get myself broken and hurt in the process.
But these are scenes from chapters that hasn't been written yet in my life. All I know it's that my life book now stands open in the middle. And even if fools tell me, "Age is but a number," I'll reply with, "Yeah. And prison's just a room..."
Truth is, your whole life can be a fucking prison. A lone cell, with only your regrets and endless "why-nots" That's where I am now, but I've managed to get a single file to saw through these bars. It might take a long time to break free, but I don't care. I've waited for 40 fucking years.
I'm done. I'll be gone.
