Ch-ch-ch-CHANGES!

Yeah, Bowie knew it more than anybody I think.

I should be asleep, it's 5 in the morning, but as usual I'm marinating on all kinds of strange things.

I found a refrigerator 4 blocks from my house tonight, and wrestled it home. Heaven be praised, it works! It was even clean!

I don't know if you know what it's like to wrestle a freakin' fridge 4 blocks, but I feel pretty manly and hardcore right now.

Actually, I'm thinking how much can change in a year.

Around this time last year, I was:

• Saying goodbye to the girl of my dreams, as she moved to Dubai.

• Trying to deal with the breakup, and failing miserably.

• Onstage with Anastacia, on live national TV.

• Getting totally sledged on mono.net for it (for apparently selling out).
  

• Paranoid about my body.

• Running 2 hours a day, with an hour of cardio, and dropping pills like Courtney Love to try and look like I did when I was 23.
  
  

• Failing.
  

• I got stabbed in the street (and in the leg).

• My dog ripped the attacker a new asshole.

• My dog got run over, and died in my arms.
  

• I lived someplace else.

• Everything smelled different.

• My hair was shorter.

• I was suicidal.

A lot of alarm bells are ringing inside, telling me not to talk about this, and I don't know why.

Wait, yes I do.

Of course I do.

I'm scared of admitting just how far I haven't come in a year.

I have friends who lead simpler lives, and they're great amazing people, and they tell me they'd die happy achieving just one of the things I have done this year.

So I should be grateful.

But the thing about being human, is you always want more.

Alright! NOW we're blogging!!!

The real truth is, I still miss that girl, even though she was the worst thing for me, and she has moved on...like, a year ago.

The real truth is I think about her every day, and every person I come close to, I compare to her.

The real truth is, every time I see I have new email, even a year later, my heart still flutters and my stomach still churns, and I die a little more every time I see it's not her.

It's some dude who obviously has no idea who I am telling me I can have a bigger penis.

The real truth is, as much as I've calmed down a huge amount, and stopped being such a confrontational/violent/quick to get defensive moron, and as much as I have found what it is I want to do, and the peace that comes with that decision, and as much as I've finally decided I'm a fucking exceptionally cool guy, and if other people can't see it, it sure as Hell ain't my dilemna, I'm still not sure I'm coping at all, and I get scared when I rip the scab off, because I'm not entirely sure I'm not going to do something stupid.

Now, let's put that last statement into perspective.

I said it because it's true, and this is my blog, where i come to say true things and to try to make you laugh or think or just love me.

I didn't say it so my readership wopuld react to it in a panic, and think I'm going to "do something stupid" tonight, because:

1. Nothing has really changed, I've felt like this always, and
2. I've lost so many amazing friends to suicide, and I don't ever want to do that to you.

But then again, sometimes I feel greedy, and sometimes the grief and the hurt that has never gone away surfaces again, whether it's because I read a Douglas Coupland book that made me miss her, or a stupid Telecom ad that reminds me of her every time.

And when it surfaces, like a big spring, it's really hard to stuff it all back in.

I'm probably being pathetic.

Maybe we all feel that much pain, and the rest of you deal with it in a strong way.

I know some very strong people that I respect pop in here and read this once every now and then, and I'm ashamed to think they might be reading this now.

People like Lee and Shane, and Rachel.

I think they're a lot better at this life thing than I am.

Regardless though, I'm the one living this life, and...well...I can't be them.

And it fucks with my head something chronic, to wonder why I even giver her a thought?

We were bad together. bad and wrong.

She was taking advantage of me in the worst ways possible, and I was stupid enough to let her.

I NEVER let anyone get close like I did her, and I knew it was a bad idea, but still I did it.

I couldn't resist.

It was like the devil totally made me do it!

I was an absolute junkie for her attention and affection, I would jones for her if she was away for 10 minutes.

And coming from me, that's mindblowing, because normally I start climbing the walls if I have to spend 10 minutes WITH another person!

I'm the total definition of a lone wolf.

So I should be able to take control of my own mind, and say...

"OK, it's OVER. She's not only never coming back to you, but you don't want her to anyway. You guys had the opportunity to talk after you broke up, and made nice, so be happy that it ended so amicably, and get on with your life. And stop acting all rejected- you left her, and she said she wanted to stay together. You must have been miserable to say that, when you cared about her so much".

But I can't.

My brain keeps sending me dreams like the one where I hear a knock on my window, and I open it up, and there she is. And she's so happy to see me. And she tells me she broke up with ****, and moved home from Dubai, and just couldn't stay away another second.

That dream kicks ass.

It's about as factual as The Lord of the Rings, but it definitely kicks ass.

There really is no end to this saga, because, well, it never ends.

And even if she did come back, and broke up with ****, and all that, I still wouldn't take her back.

Because my brain knows just how fucking hurtful she can be.
How all-consumingly selfish and conceited she can be.
How infuriatingly inconsiderate she can be.
And how many times she ripped my heart out, right in front of my face, just to make herself feel better about the way she had been treated, by the guy of her dreams.

Where's a hypnotherapist when you need one?

Do you know the worst thing though?

The worst thing is that even though I am creative by nature, and I feel incomplete if I haven't achieved something artistic every day, I would have to admit the main reason I am doing anything I have been doing in the last year, is in the vain, reckless, misguided, stupid, ill-advised, and worthless hope that it will bring me back into her focus, and she will want me back.

How's that for pathetic?


This is knifey, from 'the internet', and 'The Bold and the Beautiful'.