At the end of nothing

It has come to my attention that I was never loved. There was scarcely a mite of care to muster during the last days of a one-sided, fruitless and aside from just getting two people on to another portion of their life, utterly pointless relationship.

At this moment I am not devastated by that thought. It is more freeing than it previously was. For my part, I did everything I could to care for the crippled horse of our relationship while it was simultaneously being shot in the head and kicked in the throat.

I have hope that I am not unlovable. I still sense a great deal of love within me that is more than pleased to be bestowed upon another. The fact of this spark not being snuffed out and merely flickering even when being huffed and puffed upon mercilessly gives me great hope that I will be able to find myself at some point loved in return as well. I will fully believe it when I see it but I have faith in its existence.

So without further ado I am altering the direction I have been recently taking this blog. I don't give a rat's ass about discussing Melissa any longer. Writing about her has run its course for me and I am extremely weary of it. I have more vital concerns to attend to and I refuse to chase a friendship that would clearly end up no different than the marriage only to a lesser and more stupid extent. I have joy and dreams to strive for. I have traveling and writing and living and loving and praying to get on with. I devote myself and my public writings to this end. This weekend in Lincoln was a beautiful foundation for a life much more well lived.

A single man

I know this doesn't mean a thing in a reasonable or practical sense but the .25 inch space where my left ring finger attaches to the rest of my hand that used to be occupied by a simple white gold band has been sensing a phantom ring for the past few days. The ring was a reminder of enduring commitment, unflagging devotion, and care above all else for another. It seems its absence makes just as much noise.

To an extent, this is how I know (or hope I know) I am proceeding in correct a manner as possible: clarifying joy? I state that questioningly because I am not certain that is truly the right way to describe what I am feeling. I am certainly joyful in moments of clarity when it seems that I have a handle on the meaning of the past and the present is not a burden and the future is of course unknown but not frightening. Sadly these moments are few and far between but I find they always arrive when I deliberately make a decision. When I do not merely allow things to happen to me. Whenever I do that I get smashed by a bulldozer or lose my keys or get denied a job interview. But when I truly and fully stand up for myself and do the things I know I must to see that not-so-frightening future come to pass I feel the fleeting joy. It comes and it goes but I swear it is keeping me alive or at least letting me know I actually am alive. Feeling pain after pain does not feel much like living so when a small streak of light makes it through the blinds it can fill up a whole room. And I have a lot of empty rooms these days.

I made up my mind not to alter my tone when writing on this. This is basically my diary and I believe only two or three people read this sporadically. So who do I think I am impressing anyway? This is the way I write when it just flows out and I am going to celebrate that as opposed to apologizing for it. I need to celebrate myself a little more anyway since it is ridiculous to me now to think that someone else would want to.