I Don’t Want To Be Alone Any More

July 15, 2009 at 10:07 PM | Posted in Journal | Leave a comment
  That’s another song from Glass Houses, the second side.
  What a sad, pathetic time I’ve had this last week.  I remember when I first split up with my ex, my friend Bunny urged me that I should live by myself for a while, discover *me*, and crap like that.
  It’s not that I’m not independent; I am.  But I like to be with someone.  I experienced alone for about two months two years ago when I was living with my dad and my sister.  And–so that wasn’t even "alone" in the traditional sense, but it was enough.  It was kind of a flashback to high school because I wasn’t getting laid then, either.
  Earlier this year Detroit stayed in Florida for about a week, and that was a hard time for me, but I didn’t analyze it I guess.  I can’t explain it, except I miss her.  I know the boys are here so I’m not really alone.  But I don’t see them much and I don’t like all of them anyway.  I’ve actually gone several days without seeing anyone.
  Of course, the stress of the loan process that doesn’t look like it’s going to happen does not help, either.
  And I’m less jealous of whatever the hell she may have been doing up there.  Her friend that she took a day trip to go see–the guy–is actually an older guy.  He is now 61.  I had forgotten.  That doesn’t mean that he still can’t, and it doesn’t mean they didn’t, years ago.  He has an eight year old daughter with a younger woman that he is no longer with.  But I’m eventually going to have to let it go.  I still want to know, more out of a morbid curiousity than anything else.  Maybe she has doubts whenever I go see my ex.
  Which is funny to me, because Christ, that’s the last person I’d want to fuck around on her with, for a few reasons.  I’ll start with number two if that’s all right with you.
  2.  Fear that she would use it as blackmail to split Detroit and I up.
  1.  Seriously, she would bite it off.  OFF.  There goes my Johnson.  I do not want Detroit to find out by watching the news and seeing the police doing a search for it with dogs, spotlights, and magnifying glasses.  Embarrassing.  How–how do you explain to your fiance that your ex-wife bit off your dick?  How?  "It was an accident."  "I wasn’t paying attention, I was watching TV."  "She offered."  None of this shit would fly.
  3.  I’ve already been there.  If I’m going to do it, I’m going to find someone new.  Someone young, and hot, and possibly Asian.  Or South American.   Someone who doesn’t speak English very well, because I need all the advantage I can get.
  But my point is, I avoid her (the ex), not because I think something could happen, but because I stil don’t like her and I’m still a little afraid of her.  I try to go up and see my daughter on a Sunday, because I know that’s a day the ex usually works.  She is, after all, The Storm.  And I’d rather be alone than be with her.
  Now, much of this is moot because she is flying home today.  I mean, unless she changes her mind and decides to stay.  Like my fear when we first met her ex husband, much of it is unfounded.  Doubts don’t have to be rational, especially about the fragility of love.  My whole point in writing this and the other thing is…
  Well, what is my point?  I guess my point is that even with a great love, like our love, if you’re honest there is always fear and doubt.  Even if it’s just a little, tiny bit.  That little bit should help keep you honest, and keep you from taking the other person for granted.  Go not complacently into the night–
  Fear of loss makes you work harder not to lose it.
  Last night I didn’t even go down to the computer.  Stress from all angles coming it at me.  And I still have some bills to pay, but I didn’t feel like doing it.  I watched TV, cooked dinner, ate, watched a movie, and went to bed, where I had another fitful, restless night.  I don’t think I need her to be in bed for me to sleep, but I need her to be here.  I need her.
  If she dies before me, I’m going to have to get another one.

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