The Fight For Self III

[CT1118]

IT - no, she is not pushing the paper work; it was me on my own......................good guess, the exercise has fallen off. Not by choice, by fault of boundaries - and not by her, at work. Work has been Hll lately. Sounds weak, but it has been. I had very good about refusing to do things around my lunch hour so I could work out - fell off somewhere. I know where, one of the political candidates for POTUS visited a month ago and it was a major disrupt which coincided with some other BS- blah....I allowed the disrupt and have not stopped it.

FG - the verse is from a poem I published about 19 years ago, second thing I had ever had published. I wrote it about my youth leaving me. The above was the final stanza. My dad was in an MLC and had been gone a very long time, five years at least - he came home right before I moved away from D.C. to attend college and told me if he died, he wanted to be lain in the forest to rot. That he trusted me over my mother and brother to make that happen. My guess is b/c he knew I would actually be able to make that happen - little emotion this one. This coincided with me loosing a friend to crack cocaine, he did not die, but I still lost him; he was my brother. The above was my take on it at 20 yrs old.

Before me right now. The light is down the hall...a small hall of an apartment. The only other light is this laptop screen before me. The laptop is lighting sinew in my hands...tendons and bone. I can see my tattoo'ed arms, half sleeved each, bicep and vein on each side, the art does not seem important right now...not much weight on me these days - a result of eating only fiber and seconds converted to pushups. FG. my frustration is not for why things are - my frustration is for what my choices are.

I am finally at a place where I can choose to walk away - clean. To be done, to be rid of it, to know I did what I could do. I detached - I did it, I did it a while ago, and now, now....the options of life are upon me me, and what do I do with that? I don't want to be done, but I got there. What does one do with all this comfort as one's self? Hence my comment earlier "f-it" I feel so done, I want to sleep for days. I want to wake up and know what I want to say.

I got to what I asked for - what I asked for of me. I got to where I am ok being me. Comfortable being alone, comfortable letting her go, comfortable knowing a future in her absence. And here I am - in a place where I could ask her to stay and mean it or tell her to go away and mean it....and am not seeing a difference between the two. I am so gdmn tired man. I just want to sleep, sleep more than a few hours. Its been weeks, or less, or more.

Positive news today though. Red Cross volunteer work wants to to train me beyond their average blood truck bear. I am happy to do so, have to give back.