Fuck you

I’m almost 1/3 of the way through drive back to LA; Juma on my arm, panting away, probably wondering what the fuck is going on… it normally doesn’t take this long to get to work. Sorry the way things worked out for us. I wish you could’ve been different. I had to come to grips with that whatever fear you have or whatever fear I may have instilled in you, you’ll never get over it and maybe whatever mistrust we have each other, maybe we’ll never get over that either. That doesn’t mean I don’t think about you or wish you were here on this drive. To quote Pink Floyd “We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl year after year. Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.”

https://youtu.be/n7nxriUhFxI

I wait in a lonely, darkened room.

I wait for what seems like a thousand years.

I wait because I know that one day you’ll come for me.

I’m in Vegas, attending the NAB conference. Miles and miles of convention center floors, filled with vendors of the latest tech and trends. It’s really quite overwhelming. I just sat inside Protools exhibit (sound editing) with something like 15 speakers all perfectly situated for an unbelievable audio experience. Frankly, I wish I’d never heard it, because now I know what perfect sound is like. The bar is so high now. Then Dire Straits “So Far Away” came on and I was loving the true richness of the sound. An audiogasm for the ears. Then the audio experience turned to the thought of how you once sent me that song. I’m tired of almost seeing you or just missing you somewhere. Isn’t it enough of this “almost” crap? Can we just do it?

…doesn’t come easy and doesn’t leave without kicking, fighting, and dragging its nails across the floor the whole way out.

They arrived at 3am this morning. My brother, his girlfriend, and my cousin. He had a gig in Vegas yesterday evening, so they couldn’t hit the road until 10pm. I was up until 1:30 getting the house ready for them, so I am the embodiment of a reanimated corpse. Eyes are all puffy, right lower eyelid twitching as it does when I’m this tired, hard to stay focused., keep looking at the clock, counting down to leave the office for the day. It’s my mom’s birthday next week, but we’re celebrating this Saturday with a big dinner at a lovely French restaurant. I’m paying, of course. I printed an enlarged photo of the view from the window of my mother’s favorite flat in Paris. The actual window is in the photo, so it looks like you’re about five feet inside the flat, looking out. I’m building a wooden box, which will have lights inside at the top, so when the light is on, it will (hopefully) come through the photo and simulate sunlight. It’s a little last minute (especially considering I was going to do this five years ago), but I can get it done if I work on it tonight and tomorrow night. I’m betting that it’ll be one of those gifts that will make her cry. When I’m good, I’m really good. Then I’m off to Vegas on Sunday until Wednesday for a convention of broadcasters, tech, and other industry-related events and networking. Should be fun. On the company no less, so yay me.

Your texting from Mexico had my mind and body wandering, wanting, damn the consequences. You’re home. I had been imagining you in the arms of some tanned, limber yogi, making love under a starry sky. Vomit 🤮 (still!!). I understand you have the fear and feeling of safe self-preservation, so I don’t really think this will come to pass, but you know I’m there. But you also know that I won’t be anyone’s fool, even if it breaks my heart.

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.