Today’s a shitty day, so fuck everyone. I’d tell you about my shitty day, but you know… you’re 3000 miles away and we do t speak, so there’s that. But everyone can suck my balls today. Not literally because… just ew, and not to mention they’re still so fucking ticklish.

Juma is such an unhappy camper. He’s in his crate, cone of shame on his head, stoned out of his little doggy mind on a concoction of sedatives and anti anxiety pills. He cried most of the night because of the pain and the fear of being in a cage. My heart hurts to see him like this. Only 40 more days of this.

So I’ve been seeing someone for a few months now. I like her. I actually asked her to go to NOLA with me. We dated a couple years ago, and ironically I stopped seeing her when I tried to woo you back in winter of 2015. Oh, she remembers that well. It’s getting to be about the time of the “what are we doing and where is this going” talk. We both fear it for different reasons, but it’s time. Saying yes to her, and meaning it, would mean saying goodbye to you. And even though there is no you, I know you’re out there and I know I still feel for you, but I have to make space in my heart for someone else. I wish it was as easy as going through your closet and getting rid of old clothes (and getting a tax deduction for it too 😁👍🏼). Letting her put her other foot in is moving one of yours out, and I’ve loved you for so long that not having you there is a scary concept. Not seeing you in NY or NOLA kinda sealed that deal. I know it was self preservation, so there’s no fault and I might have done the same, if I was as strong as you. A friend of hers saw my dating App profile and told her about it. I told her I’m not using the damn app, I just haven’t taken down the profile yet. If that got her upset, imagine what she’d do if she found out about this blog! So I may have to take a “hiatus” from writing to you, thinking of you, and even loving you.

That is all. Carry on…

So yeah, no posts lately. I vacillate between understanding and upset when I think about us finally in the same city and not seeing each other. There wouldn’t have been a let down if there hadn’t been a willing lead-up to it. It’s in the pst now though, so I’ll try to cut it loose (because I’m so good at that).

My dog is stoned out of his mind. He has to be on meds five days prior to the surgery, so he’s living in a cloud. I can’t imagine keeping him in a crate for a month! How the fuck is he supposed to do that? And how can I leave him at home every day? Of course someone will come by mid day to walk him (briefly), but still. He gets so lonely. I’m watching him chew a bully stick. It seems that no matter where I lay down a towel for him to eat it over, he ends up with his head off the edge, drooling onto the white carpet (now a dingy white thanks to him). The maid hasn’t been able to come in weeks, and the dog hair everywhere is absurd. He’s shedding his winter undercoat. You could literally make another dog with just the hair around my living room.

Anywho, you… that’s it for now. Peace in the Middle East, muthafucka. X

…dog woke me at 4:36am to go out, which is earlier than normal. So I don my robe and slippers, yellow stained mouthguard still in place, and go out the back door to the street behind my house. It’s uncharacteristically cold here: 41 degrees. He immediately pulls me down the hill, which isn’t where he normally pees, and then up the other street. It’s dark, I’m in a robe and slippers, mouth full of plastic, being pulled further and further up a hill away from my house in the freezing cold. He finally stops and unleashes a small mountain of poop. Poor guy. Bad tummy. Then back home for two more hours of intermittent sleep. Tomorrow I’m up at 5:30 to drive him up to Ventura County, one and a half hours north, to a see an orthopedic specialist for an injury to his shoulder. The poor boy needs surgery. It’s the cone of shame for two weeks and six weeks of recovery for him. But he’s my boy, so what can a father do