Sad Bastard

Due to sadness…

I cried for the first time in months last night. It wasn’t his fault. I just don’t like to be reminded that I am being taken advantage of in EVERY ASPECT of my life. From staying late at the office to my friendships. And when he asks me these questions as to why I just let people walk all over me it makes me upset because this is a truth that I am very fully aware of. And I haven’t changed my ways even though I know this path is self-destructive. And it’s been like this for so long. But you know what? It’s not like anyone is trying to stop doing what they’re doing that causes me to just roll over and take it. So why bother stirring the pot?

I’m sorry. This is all cryptic but now I feel like I can’t talk to anyone about it anymore. So I turned to you, Sad Bastards. Because right now, I’m definitely a sad bastard. 

This is a captured moment. The reflection is the type every drunk has in the forcibly calming morning. It is a sobering one in the fleeting wake of the form escapism known as drunkenness. Here I stand ready to do battle, coffee shield and Coors 24oz sword in hand. I stand at the chasm of realization and so I state… I left behind my ability to grow up when she broke my heart more than 8 times years ago. I look at her life now, on her way to become a nurse. The hopes of her becoming a prominent graphic designer, a way to leave her mark of beauty on the world, now lays years in the past. I wonder if she is happy now. Or rather I let the spark of that hope light but I don’t let it catch fire. I wouldn’t dare comes across the vision, the experience, or the suffering that she is happy because I do wish that for her, but as the selfish lover that I was, I don’t want to know that it is without me. 

I find myself realizing that I didn’t grow up from the experience. You either learn or you get held back right? As it is true with life, you either accept things and you move on or you lag behind trying to solve them and even then… sometimes you can’t even do that. But hey, we all have a story right? Some of us have to be dumb selfish martyrs and the rest of us will look on in the incapability of understanding.

30 minutes passed and I am now just hungover, tired, and tired of getting drunk. Good day all.

Dead.

I’m not… I promise. Posts to come tomorrow. Miss you Miss Mare.

I miss…

My sad bastard in crime.

Hey Mr. Bravo.