What Is This Then?

“We don’t have a relationship?”

Ha! You’re telling me!

Having a problem that affects BOTH of us & telling me to “take care of it, or else” is NOT a relationship. Telling me that if I don’t live up to your expectations you’ll leave me is NOT a relationship. You Never saying a kind word.

Accusing me of being false and then yell at me WHILE we are walking into a room only to stop and smile when somebody walks up. You smile all night, laugh with me, and hold my hand. Then, as soon as we hit the car, I am a jackass again.

I have decided that I will study to become a proctologist and a psychologist so that I can give you what you want and FINALLY get my head out of my own ass.

God…….

Now do you know what I can’t send you these? Words come, heated in the moment. I am angry, but not at you. I don’t like some of the things you do. You are a victim here. You are a victim of my life. If I were standing in the way of a bus, I wouldn’t pull you beside me so we could become a double road-pizza. There is no bus, only my stupidity. The effect is the same; expect that if there were a bus, I’d also be driving.

(Hours later)

Peaceful, upstairs, asleep. I wonder at my life. Kahlil Gibran once said that, “A man may take his own life, in self-defense.” In my case, it would be in defense of my family. I have never laid a hand on any of you, and never would. My abuse is psychological. In your mind I am your enemy. In my mind, I am my own. The relationship is selfish; we are both focusing on me. Where is the room for you? For your dreams? I hurt you if I stay. I hurt myself if I go. I used to think I made pour decisions. Now I know I am incapable of making decisions at all.

My Real Shame?

I think my real shame shouldn’t be in not trying, but in not knowing what to do. The effort is applaudable only when it gets results. Then, by that logic, the real problem isn’t writing the wrong thing, it’s not writing at all. What program do I use? How do I organize it? Where do I put it? Will anybody read it? Should I want anybody to?

Can I write things I wouldn’t want anybody else to read? Even her? The real fear is that should would to read it, I’d let her, and then she wouldn’t accept them. The laundry she just threw down won’t go away. And my feelings don’t mean shit to her when she sees me sitting here, ignoring it, writing about my feelings.

It’s too boring, because it’s too obvious. Stream of conscious isn’t entertaining when it’s forced. Especially when nobody gives a flying-fuck what is in your head. And, I’m not entirely sure that isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Other’s first. If they, in turn, don’t give a rat’s crap about you and your feelings; well, it was never they’re responsibility to. You just get lucky if they do.

It's Hard - Is Anybody Out There?

It's Hard -- Anybody out there?

ADD is out there. It stalks me. I walk into a room. I see the dishes. I see the cookie jar. I know I am supposed to wash. I hear my wife snoring gently in her easy-chair in the next room. The TV is loud. The cookies are delicious.

The dishes are still dirty. My wife stirs. "Honey, could you bring me a couple of cookies and some milk?"

I look down, the jar is empty. I try and recall the last eleven minutes my watch says has passed. I can not. Did I really eat all those cookies? I walk into the next room......
The children hear, "You inconsiderate jack-ass! I just made those cookies, and you ate them all?!? Did you not think I wanted any, or that you're just not fat enough!?! I bet you didn't do the dishes either, did you? DID YOU!!?!!??" (I shake my heard & drop my eyes) "You disgust me. What do you have to say for yourself?"

What do I say? That I think it was right to eat a whole jar of cookies? To ignore doing the dishes & deprive her of something enjoyable after her long, hard day? I KNOW not to eat a whole jar of cookies, and I guess I wouldn't of, if I had been paying attention to what I was doing. But, then that's the whole point, isn't it? It's hard. I have ADD. Is anybody out there?

A Valentine?

I sit here, using time I DON’T HAVE, to try and tell you something I don’t think you want to hear. You don’t know me anymore. I am confused. I have not slept. I want to be dramatic. I want to be verbose. What’s worse, I want to be verbose & have somebody else thank me for it -