I don’t know why I write this garbage. I thought it would be a good tool to utilize for trying to fight my depression and all sorts of other shit that’s been happening to me. Honestly, for the longest time, I always worried that someone would read this and they’d fire me or I’d get arrested or something because of some of the shit I write about. And then it sort of dawned on me. I really don’t care. Since I’ve been keeping sort of an online diary of my thoughts, I’ve learned something about myself. People create my happiness. Mainly, someone of the opposite gender makes me happy. Meeting a woman and getting to know her and committing to a long, lasting relationship with someone who I can share my life with is what makes me happy. A lot of people question me; why do you let women drive your happiness so much? Well, I don’t rightfully know. They just do.
Some people can create their own happiness, and for the most part, so can I. I think a lot of these feeling came from watching reruns of The Office and watching how Jim and Pam fell in love. They’re just two simple people working a shit job..and fell in love. I know that’s obtainable for me. My problem is I feel I’m running out of energy to continue fighting for love. Whenever I meet someone, things seem to fall apart in the beginning so fucking fast. Whether its other people spreading rumors about me because of their own insecurities or they don’t want to see me happy or it’s just some outside influences that seems to wedge its way into my life and fuck everything up. Or it’s me worrying too much, over thinking things and ultimately scaring away that person. Whatever it is, it always seems to happen. But something always keeps me in the fight.
Lately, I’ve been afraid to speak my mind. I’ve been apprehensive to say what my thoughts are. And I shouldn’t be that way. I guess it’s a fine line that has to be walked with people, and one slip up means certain death. I hate the way I am and I hate the way I think. I’m truly passionate and have so much love to give…I don’t know. I guess that’s why I devote so much of my time to charity work.
I thought things were going to progress for the better in my life by now. When I got out of the Army, I decided to go back to school, live with folks, get a job and get my own place. I soon found out that getting into (even a small apartment) was costly and I’d have to make at least $18 an hour to stay ahead of rent. My first job I got straight out of the military was a Loss Prevention job. It was challenging and I enjoyed it. I quickly expanded on that and nailed down a second job. But it still wasn’t enough to afford rent and bills. When my parents put their house up for sale, I knew time was not on my side. I was pretty much forced out with empty promises from them that “whatever it took to keep you successful, we’d do.” Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated the kind gesture but I knew it was up to me whether I’d make it or not.
For the most part, I did make it on my own. I never asked anyone for a dime. I never pleaded or begged to move back in with my parents. Even during the dog days of summer when it was 90 degrees out and I was sleeping in my car on a regular basis with all my shit in storage, I never once turned to anyone for help. I was working security at some casino up north and still working my loss prevention job because I knew that as long as I held onto that job, better things would come my way. And they did. Nine months of taking showers at the local gym, living out of my car, and saving what little money I made, I continued to pursue better employment and love.
From the time that Megan left me up until now, I really only pursued two relationships. Both were huge disasters because both parties were just as confused and fucked up as I am. Neither one lasted more than a month. And since Megan left me, I couldn’t tell you how many times I wanted to stick a gun in my mouth and unload. I just wanted to be free from this misery. I just wanted to be free from the pain that I’m basically self-inflicting on myself by continually looking for a lasting relationship. Every last one of them ends in heartbreak. Why? Because I’m a compassionate person. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I see the good in everyone. I ignore red flags and try my best to work through all the bullshit. I’m just sick and tired of people giving up so fast on me. Yeah, relationships aren’t easy. Ask any couple that’s been married for 10 years or more. There are battles and fights and conflicts…and all sorts of shit that isn’t all kitty cats and fucking rainbows.
Now I’m stuck again. On the verge of pouring 100% of my feelings into this or cutting it loose before it ends in heartbreak fashion, I have good intuition about people because that’s what I do all day long. I people watch. And I’d like to say, (for the record) I have a good feeling about this if I stick to my guns, observe my thoughts, choose my words carefully, and proceed with caution.