The First Blog: A Broken Heart

So, I used to write a blog, but it got old when everyone I knew read it. I could no longer say anything personal because then everyone immediately got in my business and decided to ask me questions or people I didn’t want knowing my business would hear about it and know it anyway.

Well, it was the good folks at Pajiba and a friend of mine (who actually got me into Pajiba) who have been convincing me to start writing a blog again. Pajiba, because I notice that most of the others have one. The friend, Michael, because he understands that sometimes you need to get things out but you need an outsiders perspective. Don’t know how many people will actually read this, but I just feel the need to be able to get things out, and the journal is not working for me anymore.

So, what this blog will basically be is like a day to day report of my life. Will it actually be everyday? I have no idea. There are some days when I will probably be so drunk I can’t even see the screen (after all, self-medicating is fantastic). Others where the day will be so fucking boring that I have nothing to write about. But write I will, maybe it will bring the passion back and I will be able to start writing again for real. So, where to begin?

It will be a year at the end of this month since I broke up with my last girlfriend. In that year I have not gone on a single date, I haven’t had sex, I haven’t even tried. In fact sometimes when I recognize a girl is interested in me, I run in the other direction. I had thought I had found the love of my life. She broke up with me three months before I was going to propose to her. Let me explain a little more.

She was bi-polar, so yes at times she was bat shit crazy and depressing as fuck. However, it was the times when she was happy and sane that made me swoon. Let me go further.

A week after our first date she tried to kill herself. Now I know most other men would have run in the opposite direction, but me being a depressed person myself I couldn’t do it, I had love to give, and she needed it. So I stuck around. The lady she was living with wasn’t a friend, or even her mother, it was simply a lady that took her in out of the cold. She became quite obsessive and controlling after the suicide and so when (for the sake of argument lets call the x Jane) needed to get out of there I took her in. So Jane started living with me. Here we go.

She didn’t have a car so I took her to work (an hour trip), I took her to college, I took her to doctors appointments (one of which was an hour away). I paid for everything, food, alcohol, the $300 necklace and Ipod she got (because she was in debt up to her eyeballs), lets not forget the sky-diving trip for her birthday. Lets just say I gave her everything I had to give, love, money, life. I dealt with coming home and finding her bleeding in the bathtub, carrying her inside after she threw up inside my car leaving a friends party, slaps to the face when she was going through a manic moment…the list continues.

Well I quit my job because it sucked and was in the process of looking for a new one. I’m a cook, and when the manager of the restaurant she was working at heard I was looking he offered me a job making $14 when I was only making $10. She didn’t want me to work at the same place as her so I found another job making $10. Then I decided to move out from where I was living and pretty much told her, “Look, since I’m moving to this new place and not really getting the hours I need at work I’m not going to be able to pay for a lot of things anymore.” A month later she broke up with me, her reason was to “date women.” When I moved out she moved in with a friend, she couldn’t keep her cat so I watched her for two months.

Well…about five months later I found out several things.
One, she had her own apartment.
Two, had gotten a car.
Three, was dating a guy.
Four, he was living with her.
It instantly pissed me off because everything I did for her she was now doing in reverse. Well, I guess I also got pissed off because the guy came up to my nipple and looked like a tiny fucking troll. Did I mention he also works as a cook at her restaurant? I met him, or saw him, the first time I’d seen her in nearly six months. He eyeballed me across the bar the whole night, and all I could do was smile.

Anyway, she put some new pics up on her Facebook recently and of course, couldn’t help myself. What I see is three separate vacations, that she is getting a house, etc. All the signs that point that she is doing much better then I am. Then I see a wall post that she had replied to one someone sent her (yes…Facebook stalking), low and behold what does it say, that she will have been dating the new boyfriend for a year next month.

Wait…my blood boiled.

The girl who broke up with me to date women would have literally broke up with me and started dating him within days or weeks.

Which made me also think, could she have been cheating or wanting to date him before we even broke up?

Which also would make sense of why she didn’t want me to work there.

I know I shouldn’t obsess, but in all honesty I can’t help myself. I know I should move on, but my heart was torn apart, it hasn’t healed any, and the gaps keep tearing even more.

I used to go to the movies every week. I think I’ve gone to five in the past year. I used to read, a lot. I think I’ve read four books. Museums, concerts, random road trips, hiking, star gazing, don’t do it anymore. I used to ride around and try new bars…nope. I don’t do anything that I used to do. All I do, is drink. My roomie asked me one day when the last time I bought food was, I said I couldn’t remember. So he asked me when the last time I bought alcohol was, I opened a beer and tipped it in his direction. I can’t even write. I think in the past year I’ve written maybe two stories and a few poems. I used to churn them out. That, is what depresses me even more, my inability to write.

How bout this for a first blog?