Belated decade in Review, Part Two
I went out to California again in the spring of 2005, despite the not-so-good visit over Thanksgiving to help Her move from Topanga back to her Westwood condo.
What a disaster...
A complete and utter disaster. I posted about it back then, so look through the archives and read for yourself. It isn't worth going over again. It was total neediness on my part. After the trauma of the divorce I just wanted to be loved again. And how apropos that I wanted the love of someone who wouldn't love me back. (nobody fall over from shock)
Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Can we say, pattern?
In the summer of 2005 she drifted out of my life completely.. I tossed her to the curb after getting a Pollyanna email from the Islands where she had purchased a home. Claiming to have found love with some mogul in the steel industry. Sour Grapes? Of course... Nobody wants to be shunned by a physically stunning person, or one that is emotionally unavailable to us. It hurt.. I won't lie, it crushed me. It was a magnification of all the non-acceptance, rejection, and hurt that I had delayed dealing with from my divorce.
Something darkened in me after that... I became a risk taker on a monumental level. I hunted alligators at night in the Everglades. (Legally) Hell, I was so foolish I even swam into a lagoon trying to get a 10 footer to come after me and chase me to the shore so I could harpoon it. My friend thought I was crazy. And, I guess I was.. I was a reckless, graying Tarzan with nothing else to lose. How close I came to dying could only be measured in centimeters, not yards..
I don't type this to brag, or beat my chest, but just to illustrate how close to the edge I was.
I just really didn't care anymore. Weather I lived or died was irrelevant, other than how my death would have affected my Mother and Father. I contemplated just quitting my job and going back into the Service. The only thing that stopped me was my Father. I had contacted a recruiter and was going to head back in as Military Police, which would have been a First Class ticket to the war in Iraq. I was looking for my dose of the war.
As stupid as this sounds, I wanted death and destruction around me. I wanted to sight in on someone, and squeeze the trigger. My life was chaos, it only made sense for me to want to surround myself with it. It's really, truly hard to explain. Hell, I had friends serving over there. I wanted to join them.
My father, being a combat pilot in Vietnam simply said to me; "Your mother had to sit eating frozen dinners in front of the television for a year waiting for me to come back, and crying at every knock on the front door, thinking it was a Chaplain notifying her I'd been shot down.. Please don't put her through that again.." I choked back acidic tears and told him I wouldn't do that to them. But it was a hard thing to promise. I think I really wanted to go out in a so-called "Blaze of Glory". As stupid as that is, I did. The best laid plans of mice and men, I guess.
And then the next round of of craziness ensues... The Eras, of Ann, and Kim..
What a disaster...
A complete and utter disaster. I posted about it back then, so look through the archives and read for yourself. It isn't worth going over again. It was total neediness on my part. After the trauma of the divorce I just wanted to be loved again. And how apropos that I wanted the love of someone who wouldn't love me back. (nobody fall over from shock)
Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Can we say, pattern?
In the summer of 2005 she drifted out of my life completely.. I tossed her to the curb after getting a Pollyanna email from the Islands where she had purchased a home. Claiming to have found love with some mogul in the steel industry. Sour Grapes? Of course... Nobody wants to be shunned by a physically stunning person, or one that is emotionally unavailable to us. It hurt.. I won't lie, it crushed me. It was a magnification of all the non-acceptance, rejection, and hurt that I had delayed dealing with from my divorce.
Something darkened in me after that... I became a risk taker on a monumental level. I hunted alligators at night in the Everglades. (Legally) Hell, I was so foolish I even swam into a lagoon trying to get a 10 footer to come after me and chase me to the shore so I could harpoon it. My friend thought I was crazy. And, I guess I was.. I was a reckless, graying Tarzan with nothing else to lose. How close I came to dying could only be measured in centimeters, not yards..
I don't type this to brag, or beat my chest, but just to illustrate how close to the edge I was.
I just really didn't care anymore. Weather I lived or died was irrelevant, other than how my death would have affected my Mother and Father. I contemplated just quitting my job and going back into the Service. The only thing that stopped me was my Father. I had contacted a recruiter and was going to head back in as Military Police, which would have been a First Class ticket to the war in Iraq. I was looking for my dose of the war.
As stupid as this sounds, I wanted death and destruction around me. I wanted to sight in on someone, and squeeze the trigger. My life was chaos, it only made sense for me to want to surround myself with it. It's really, truly hard to explain. Hell, I had friends serving over there. I wanted to join them.
My father, being a combat pilot in Vietnam simply said to me; "Your mother had to sit eating frozen dinners in front of the television for a year waiting for me to come back, and crying at every knock on the front door, thinking it was a Chaplain notifying her I'd been shot down.. Please don't put her through that again.." I choked back acidic tears and told him I wouldn't do that to them. But it was a hard thing to promise. I think I really wanted to go out in a so-called "Blaze of Glory". As stupid as that is, I did. The best laid plans of mice and men, I guess.
And then the next round of of craziness ensues... The Eras, of Ann, and Kim..
Comments
I remember a couple years back needing to feel pain to remember that I was alive. I don't feel that way anymore, but I remember it vividly. I think that's a lot like that need to feel close to death to feel alive. Just something to poke that adrenaline into overdrive, to make me feel something, ANYthing...even if pain.
Quite a decade it was. Nice to start again. You've been off to a running start now for a while. Good for you.
Be well, Windy.
I'm just getting really raw, and personal here. And while I need, and want to, I was a bit concerned with what I was posting.
Screw the fallout, if any comes about. Honestly, I could care less. Hell, I may even get a thrill out of it..