Things worked their way out after my friend passed. Life went on as per usual. He was never forgotten but well, the day-to-day had to happen. Fast forward seven or so years. Committed relationship. Big mistake. There were expectations. It would get better. Right?... Things would work out.
Peeeeeeewwwwwwwwwww. Smash. That's the relationship plane crashing into a million pieces with no survivors. Well, I survived. In body. Not in mind or soul. I was wreaked. My mistake; I let this person determine my worth. They hated themselves so they sure as hell weren't going to love me. I, of course didn't know that at the time but I see it now. Good old hindsight...always 20/20.
I moved out while he was at work. It was the only way to do it. The worst day of my life...almost. I moved home for a very short period of time and then kind of couch surfed. I mostly stayed with a girlfriend and her family. I helped her out with her kids. She wasn't in a great relationship either and needed the support. Then I moved in with a guy I knew who needed a hand with rent. I had a blow up mattress on the floor, a couple blankets, a lamp and a suitcase. I lasted four months. He got loaded one night and threatened to take my life. Good thing I just had the blow up mattress and a shitty gold and beige lamp from the 70s. He went for a cab ride for more booze and I hit the road. There was the weird stalking after that for a bit and then he disappeared.
Crap attracts crap and boy I was like a big turd attracting the flies.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thoughts are always appreciated.