All though we don’t talk like we did while we were both growing up, I still think about you from time to time. The way you used to call me ‘Uncle Scrooge’ and how you and your brother would torture me the way that two young kids would. I remember being impressed with the way you could pitch a softball when you were older. I stepped into the batter’s box armed only with a wiffle ball bat and almost pissed my pants. No one’s arm should be able to wind around like that. If you only had a wiffle ball in your hand and not an actual softball, I might have been a little more confident.
I watched you grow up throughout the years. You were always a little more athletic and outgoing than your brother. You had that potential of being the girl that the boys would chase after and you would have dates lining up from the door and down the street, waiting to take you to the prom or some other shindig.
But sadly, as life can bring such potential it can squash it all away. Decisions make us who we are and unfortunately you didn’t have the best people to provide you examples of how to live life. Of course, at one point we were both making the same sort of wrong decisions. Somewhere, in some part of my brain I was slightly happy that we were both travelling down the same twisted road. It made things not feel so lonely. However, in hindsight I should have been the uncle, the adult, the one to try to get you back on the right path. After all, when you told your mom (before she overdosed) that you were using, all she could do was laugh and tell you not to get caught.
I was ecstatic when we reconnected online a year or two ago. You were on the track of cleaning your life up before I moved away and I thought that you were finally back on the path that I had hoped for you. But after talking with you and looking at your pictures online, I was more than a little sad. That dark path seemed to have snatched you back again.
After talking with other family members, I learned that you were definitely using and spiraling out of control. I heard about your sister demanding to be left on the side of the road so she could walk away from you and cut the ties that blood create. She needed to be her own person and couldn’t head down the path you were travelling. I heard about your time in jail (for what, I still don’t know and don’t care).
Apparently you’re back out in the real world according to your page. I saw your most recent picture. You’re almost ten years younger than me, and you looked about ten years older than me. Even worse, you looked the way your mom did in the years before she passed.
I only hope for you the best. I will still be keeping an eye out on you (via the internet), but I can’t reach you. I only hope one day you will find the better path again and become the person that I feel you were truly meant to be.
So, a quick post to kind of bring things back to life here.
It’s been a few months since last I posted. This is in part due to the fact that I forgot what the password was to the blog, but also partially because I couldn’t think of anything to write.
Anyway, at this moment I get to play the waiting game. My brother has agreed to pay for the divorce. So, for now I must wait until the lawyer gets the check and cashes it and such before the ball can get rolling.
Part of me could kick myself for waiting this long. Now I get to deal with the potential awkwardness of having my wedding anniversary come up and still being legally married to her. Yeah, that’ll be a fun day of texts I bet. At least it’ll be on a day off so if needs be I can just stay in bed all day with Jo and kind of forget the day and the world.
In lighter news, we have gotten the ball rolling on a two bedroom apartment, so that way Jo can have her home office for her job with Apple. Of course, there comes the fun of moving and potentially doing a large portion of the move by ourselves. Yay for the crap that comes with that.
Funny how music can kind of soothe things and make things seem better. Phish always seems to have that effect.
Okay, well I’ve rambled on long enough. Calling it a night for this. Maybe some writing tomorrow . . . who knows.
So, it’s Valentine’s Day– a day to celebrate your love and appreciation for that certain someone in your life, or a day to become a miserable old bastard and either hole yourself up watching romantic comedies and imagine the way your life should be or to get extremely drunk and laugh at all the young couples in love, knowing that they’re ridiculous with their googly eyed looks and their public displays of affection, while you think to yourself how much being single rocks while they go home together and you go home alone.
This Valentine’s Day, I found myself in an odd predicament. None of these scenarios applied to me this year. True, I am in love and yes she is amazing and I adore and appreciate her and all other words that would be synonymous with that. However, I show my love and affection to her every day. Why spend one day showing the world how much I love her and letting her now how much she means to me?
Then, by all manners of luck, my girlfriend hit upon the greatest idea in the world in a letter that she wrote me on pink paper while she was at work today.
She is my soul mate, and I am hers. Nothing in the world is too horrible nor can anything be that bad, because she is in it. And while we don’t need a day to show how much we love each other, we can at least celebrate the fact that we each have found our soul mates.
So that’s why this year, I am marking this as the first anniversary of Celebrate Your Soul Mate Day— because, hey, finding that one true someone is a very big deal.
So, I hope that each of you have a good Valentine’s Day, or if you’d like to help make this a national movement, a great Celebrate Your Soul Mate Day.
Truth be told, I was going to start this off in ‘How I Met Your Mother’ fashion (seeing as how in the last couple of weeks my girlfriend and I have gone through the first five and a half seasons), but I’ve decided not to at the last moment. This was mainly out of fear of having Jason Segal bust through the door complaining about me violating copyright laws and then him and I doing some weird Vulcan mind meld thing where we end up joining our spirits together.
Okay, may I need some sleep but I feel this must be covered.
Being a child of the 80′s, I’ve grown up watching family TV shows of all kinds in where the parents on the show talk about how they love being married and spending their whole life with their best friend. Even the romantic comedies that I love watching (I mean, seriously, I think I watch more chick flicks then most men feel comfortable admitting to) covered this point ad nauseum. And for years, I was looking for that in my life. For that person who was my best friend that I would get to spend my life with. I mean after all, TV wouldn’t lie to me . . . . . Would it?
Anyway, for years I would find the one who I thought was my best friend. But, there were things that I would look past or explain away, trying to make the woman I was going out with be my best friend. But you can’t make someone into something that they are not. And then I spent spent ten years with a woman who I thought was my best friend.
The thing is that it turns out that I was her best friend, but she wasn’t mine.
I could go on a long torrid rant about how I tried to make that best friendship work, but ya’ll would be bored half way through and then I’d have no more readers because you would know . . . oh yes, you would know . . . that somewhere on this page was this lengthy rant post that you could just not make yourself read any more.
But, ranting aside, one day back in April of 2012, it happened. I met my best friend at, of all places, work. And my life has never been the same, so much so for the better.
Because you see kids, finding that best friend you get to spend the rest of your life with isn’t something that you try to force and make happen. You sometimes have to let the universe do what it does and bring the two of you together. And when you let it happen, it’s the most amazing thing in the world. Sure, we may be grouchy and grumpy towards each other from time to time, but I know that no matter what, when the proverbial chips are down that she has my back, and I hope that she knows that I have hers.
She’s shown me that it’s okay to be myself and that I should follow my passions. And after hiding both of those things for ten years, I’m happy and proud with who I am. And it’s in part due to one amazing woman who lights up my world with just one look or just one touch. It was worth the journey to finally find her and to know that she’s my best friend.
But now I have to go meet up with your Uncle Barney at Mclaren’s.
So this shall be the last post under the guise of 27blogs.
It was fun while it lasted. BUT, it’s not over. Far from it.
If you are already a follower, you can now find me posting on someandalot.com/blog.
All of the writing hasn’t moved over yet, and it needs some tweaking (which I will be doing over this weekend), but go on over and check the place out before I add in the finishing touches.
And once again, thank you for reading.