11

Sometime in August

I honestly have no idea what I’m doing. Ever since the separation, which I can’t wait wait to blossom in to a divorce I feel like I’ve been scrambling to catch up with life altogether. I’ve been in my apartment for about 4 months now, and it still looks like I just moved in. I barely clean up, and I honestly don’t want to. I feel like I’ve been taking hits everyday and everyday I wake up, leave, and make it back home through the door is an accomplishment on grand scale. Some days I can’t even summon up the strength to think, and it’s all I can do to even breathe. I feel like if it wasn’t for my kids and my poetry and my woman I’d be dead by now and in more ways than one. I honestly just don’t care anymore and now there are fewer and fewer things giving me reason to.  It feels like anything I do above scraping the barrel is a headache. I think I fear success on any real level, because it scares me to think I could fall even further should I fail. I think about success and I don’t think about how far up I could go, but how far down I could fall should I fail. So I stay mid level, because I get just enough to gratify myself and then I sink back down because there are fewer things safer than mediocrity, or as comfortable as an excuse. I am a bona fide Class A failure. A bum just got on the bus, drunk and well within his stupor, lost if you ask him what he’ll do in the next 3 minutes and God forgive me but I envy him. My whole life I’ve never felt like I could be anything, so I don’t know whether to call this a slump or a high point.  

10

7-6-05

She told me when she was here that if I didn’t love myself I couldn’t love anyone else. I had heard it before, but it seemed to make sense the way she said it. At the same time it shook me, because I know how I feel about her and while I do want to love myself I don’t know how. I feel good about myself at times, but I don’t know if I’ve ever loved myself.  I wouldn’t know where to start and it’s because of that I feel I give the impression that I am unsure of myself (because, shit, I am) and that’s why I’ve attracted most of the women I’ve been with.  The reason most of my relationships never work is because they weren’t meant to. Almost every woman I meet runs into me at a time where they’ve separated, divorced or broken up with their man at the time. What happens is that they still very much love the dude they were with before; they just can’t suffer or tolerate their ways. Then they meet me, and I won’t be Mr. Right; just Mr. Right now.

5-1-06

The majority of the women I’ve been with have never seen me as their mate, but rather an accessory item, which means you’re the lamp that goes nice with the couch, praying she doesn’t decide to go with a new living room set one day. I attribute this to my insecurities. I think I’ve had opportunities to embrace real love but instead chose to settle just to play it safe with woman I knew deep down couldn’t give me what I needed-what I in turn gave them. I figured it was safer that way-don’t ask. It’s to the point I question any woman with any sincere interest in me to the slightest, for fear of the one that could actually be what I need.

9

Wednesday.

May 3rd, 2006.

Wow.