#thursday. jesus fucking christ if i have to spend all weekend sleeping to get over this bullshit i am gonna be SO mad

[gentlethorns]

jesus christ i hate my body. it's like owning a shitty used car all over again except that I CAN'T SELL IT AND BUY A NEW ONE. unless you would classify orthopedic surgery as doing that and even then that's far in the future and does me no good whatsoever right now

#she bork #tbd #i try to love my body. i really do. i don't like the way it looks but i could get past that and appreciate its function IF IT WERE #FUNCTIONAL. which it is not. #no idea whether my body is punishing me for throwing the truck yesterday or buckling under the hormonal strain of my upcoming cycle or just #deciding to be a dick but the bottom line is that i am exhausted and my body hurts so bad. my wrist my thumb my legs my neck everything. i'm #even having a recurrence of the nerve problems i had in my foot neck in like. TWENTY-TWENTY-ONE. why why why why why. why does my body exist #ONLY to spite me. i swear to god if i get home and i can't put in my fucking words bc of how my body feels i'm gonna freak. i am SO CLOSE TO #THE END DO NAWT NERF ME AT THE FINISH LINE #*my foot BACK in like 2021 lol. even my typos mock me #jesus i just can't emphasize enough how fucking bad my body hurts. my wrist and thumb feel like they have fucking ground glass in them (idk #about my wrist but ik my thumb has a bone spur and that's probably close enough lol). my foot feels like someone is stabbing it w a dull #knife right in that tender spot by the inner ankle bone and making it ache. i feel fucking exhausted and a little sick? idk how even just #like Not Good or like just Off. and i'm STILL at work and then tomorrow i STILL have to run the truck again and then i'm finally off #thursday. jesus fucking christ if i have to spend all weekend sleeping to get over this bullshit i am gonna be SO mad

[sammlethal]

Anyone ever tell you that they do not love you? At that point when you have stars in your eyes and that person fills your heart to bursting? Have you ever given someone every single emotion there is to give? From rage to tears of joy? Emotions from both your personal stock and theirs?

Its like we live in a time period where actual love is dead. Everything is selfish. Everyone. Me included.

My father quit on me. Packed all mine and my siblings belongings into small plastic shopping bags and dropped us off 6 hours away in my mothers neighborhood, not sure which house was hers. I had to hold my brother and sister's hands while knocking door to door, looking for my mom. I was 12.

That was a couple years after the era of beatings, after the era of divorce. After that Friday afternoon day at school; my mother was the school bus driver before the divorce. Everyday we rode home with her. Until my father picked us all up. It was fun for us kids. We NEVER got picked up, and by our father! What a thing! He drove us to our pastors house. We did not see our mother again for almost 5 years. In the State of Virgina, in the late 90s, it wasnt considered kidnapping for a biological parent to take off with the kids if they stay within state lines. And my mother must have given up after that. I imagine the evil that was my real father, and how crushed and scared she must have been. Only now do I know what it is she felt.

That was after the molestation of me and my sister by our God father/Sunday school teacher/the churches singing coach.

Then there was my first love. I was 17. She was 16. By 19 we had a daughter, her name is Serenity. My ex was a freak. My demanded things from me that I could not give her, not physically. So in order to keep her and my kid, I let her have her satisfaction and pleasure.

I guess someone screwed her over because she fabricated these fake police reports about a guy who kept coming after her and she said she called the cops over and over and he wouldnt leave her alone (she was 6 months preggo when this happened) and she didnt feel safe and I beat him up. I beat him up bad. Almost killed him. Turns out she lied and he had been paying her for preggo nude flicks and videos amd she felt he still owed her money. So she used my insecurities and my nature and set me on a course that led me to 5 years in prison. Then she left me. Yeah I know. I'm a fucking idiot. My only defense was that i was young and dumb and in love. Or so I thought. No really...i thought it was the right thing. That I was protecting my small, new family. And damnit man, family means the world to me. Probably because mine has been so fucked up lol.

Anyways I get out in 2015 and I meet a girl. She rocks my world in all new was and we CLICK. Like...humor and taste and the world issues we care about and nerdy things and the SEX IS ON FIRE. And I fucked up. I fucked up bad. I broke her heart. I got drunk. I started the road to becoming my biological father.

Then she left me. Which was biggest, greatest thing she could have ever done for me. I went spiraling out of control and ended up living in the woods.

Until she calls me one day. I had a new girlfriend. We did not CLICK lol...and as soon as me and her spoke I turned to that girl and told her we were not gonna work out.

You see. Me and my lady had a son together. A beautiful, handsome as hell and adorable baby boy. And he really became my world. I walked 7 miles to meet him. My feet had popped blisters by the time I got downtown and saw them. The whole time I'm walking I'm hopping she didnt leave. That she would wait. And she did.

Then I messed up again. I scared her. That time between when we broke up and when she came back...i did not do good. I found cocaine and alcohol and it led to a very big fight between the two of us. That night we fought I have never been more like my father than right then and there. And I payed for it. The next morning I was arrested. No one thought of rehab. No one had the sight to see the root of the issues. Or no one cared. It was back to prison for me. A parole violation.

I got out. We tried again. I failed again. Only this time nothing horribly bad had happened. She just wanted an escape. I know this because she has since told me so. That she wasn't IN LOVE with me and needed an escape. We had been split up almost a week. I will never forget. It started on a Wednesday night, I left and went to my mothers. That following Sunday the police beat down the door and arrested me AGAIN. Only this time nothing bad had happened. Not really. She just didnt want to be with me. And so she sent me away. For two more years. 2!

I get out. I find peace finally. I start taking care of mental health.

She comes back! Again! And once again I leave my girlfriend at the time, who by the way, had a heart of gold and did not deserve to get caught up in mine and my lovers drama. I will forever feel guilty about that and I hope she forgives me over time. But at the end...no one can replace my son's Mother. She is my other half. My best friend.

We've been going since April? May? It had been a few years and I had just gotten out a few months before and the Covid just hit so I was trying to get the family court papers started. I got in touch with a private detective to find her so I could have her served. The the last thing I expected was to get a call from her.

And here we are. I am struggling to learn all the important, fundamental life lessons that my parents failed to teach me. I am struggling to learn those crucial relationship lessons we learn when in our twenties...that era of my life that was spent locked away.

All i want is my family. Is to be loved. And to ve able to return that love. My life could have went a few different ways. But here I am, doing the right things as much as I see them. I beat myself up when I fail. I work hard doing general construction. I'm good at it too. I start school in the spring. Nothing fancy just community college. I am an awesome dad. An awesome lover. And I have a huge heart.

ALMOST every single day I am with my little family. My son's Mother and my son. She doesnt want me to move in...which I understand. She claims to be an introvert. Which I also understand. (Along with beating, my childhood was also spent locked in my room, grounded, for days on days on days).

And dont get it wrong. Me and her have some issues. Mine (I think?) are just basic life things I'm trying to wrap my head around, like I said, the things my parents failed me on. But at least I know that. I admit it. And I'm trying. Because I'm a good man who has been through hell and because of that hell, I love with a feirceness, I don't give up. I am patient. And I generally have a positive outlook on life. I would I am doing good, all things considered. Her issues? Jesus fucking Christ. You would swear the world is ending right now.

She is constantly breaking up with me. For example, this weekend I gave it to her in a way neither of us have had...im talking sex here...we both have this...fetish, both of us (how rare?) And we both click when we do these things. Anyways I left her empty of all juices. Then I massaged her a little that night, telling her how good and amazing she is. Then another nice massage a day or so later. She thanked me after the last one (massage I mean)...saying how her back didnt hurt in the morning and how she got her yoga done.

And now we are broken up. Right now. Again. It was last week when it happened. She calls me on Wednesday or Thursday and says that I got in her head. Then this awesome weekend happens. Then an awesome start to the week. Then tuesday, doing construction, I think i pulled something in my leg or gave myself a small hernia, because after work I was in pain and sore. I asked told her I wanted to stay home. Rest up. That the next day we were supposed to start this big window replacement job. 20 something windows. But no. We argued over it. I dont know why. I think she just really missed me. Or so I thought. And said she needed help with our son. She always says that, then when i get there and dinner is over, the rest of her night is spent on her phone (which she is sneaky with), on the TV, or MAYBE catching up on homework. Says she is tired after a long day of working from home, on the phone and computer. Doing IT. But I do physical labor. And if I complain that I am sore or tired she just thinks i want to sit at home on my PlayStation or watching netflix, instead of taking the responsibility to be there for our son. Which remember, I am ALWAYS THERE. Unless she has decided that I am horrible, in which case she breaks up with me, and I spend the next couple of days hurt and crying and missing my family. I can not move in with her and my son. She does not want her family to know. (My mother told me she would disown me if me and her got back together. But it did not stop me. Because i am a man, and she is my woman. He is my son. And this is my life)....and is so stressed and anxious that will find me over there. I have actually, more than once, had to run and hide because her family popped up.

So yeah, I walk over there. This was Tuesday. The day when I think I pulled a muscle. I walked. She says that the only reason I walked was because she had to yell at me. But man...see these text. You would swear I am the world's largest dick head. In reality she said all these things in front of my son. That night I touched her. Massaged her just a little...soft touches. We made love. I woke up throughout the night with leg cramps. Woke up the next morning so tired from lack of sleep and hurting leg muscles. Called the doctor. Had to miss work. Turns out that yep, I gave myself a small hernia. Then WALKED on it lol.

So when we talked yesterday. I told her that the doc is pretty sure I have a hernia...my appointment was today and yes...yes I do have a little hernia. Doc wants me to rest but I'm pretty sure I have to work. Anyways so yesterday, before she picks our boy up from daycare (by the way, kuddos to you moms who work from home AND have kids to deal with at the same time. You girls are superheros!)...which I agree with daycare. He is an only child and he needs interaction with other kids. It's important for his development. Anywho, she ask me before picking him up if I want to come over. I tell her no, tell her what the doc said. By this point I have been there everyday since Friday. While on parole and breaking cerfew and worried about that. (Which I got questioned on. If I didnt worry about parole before, why now? And I dunno. Thats way of anxiety? But good thing I did because he came by this morning and I was here. Had I been there with her, I would have been here and would be on my way to a big ole parole violation. But no. In her eyes I dont do enough. I have to be there every day, no matter if I'm sick or sore or in pain. That is what she said. That a real parent never quits.

I'm just so confused. I didnt quit. He can come over here to my place whenever he wants. Ive told her this. I have told him that. Of all nights for the two of us to stay at our respective homes, last night was it. I AM IN SO MUCH PAIN AND CAN BARELY MOVE.

But she broke up with me again last night. Or better yet, said that we have been broken up. She said she doenst love me anymore.

How? Literally all we do is laugh. Have amazing sex. We are awesome parents. I literally dote on her. Massage her. Touch her softly. Like for real, I EMPTIED her of all juices, have seen her cry...actually cry, from pleasure. She makes 50x more money than I do, but I still give her money because I don't want to feel like a burden.

I dont get it. I really don't. I give the shirt off my back. Gave myself a hernia. All I want is belong to a family that doesn't quit when the anxiety comes. Who doesnt take a lifetime of anxiety and stress and then blame it on someone else simply because they are what is in front of you at the moment.

How can someone be so smart and not see that? Or not want to?

Its 2020. We live in a world that encourages us to lie to ourselves. To lie to ourselves about our nature. We all believe we are good. Harmless people. Who would never hurt anyone or cause ill will. What we fail to see is that yes, we do cause all of these things, and then some. We are not perfect. We are human. We will hurt other people. We will lie. The great tragedy of the world isnt this in and of itself...these different hurts and heart aches are as old as humanity is....war, peace. Love and hate. The great tragedy is that we have been led to believe that we are beyond that, that we good, perfect people. And so when we do hurt others, its not our faults but theirs because how can I, this wonderful human being in the modern age, ever hurt someone? I have a car, a job, I'm a good parent. I'm a good boss. Whatever it is. We justify who we are by our level of success. And this is wrong.

And when she ask me why I love her after everything. Those moments when we both see the truth and see who we are, those are the moments when she ask me how I'm the world I can actually love her knowing all this. Dealing with all this. How? And I dont have the answer. I just know that my heart beats for the two of them (her and my boy) and it always will and I really hope one day she comes around. I'm waiting for that.

Some men find that one lady, that one lover, and there is nothing else after her that we want. She has it all. And that is me. That is her.

I love you

[backtojuno]

yoooo ive been really inactive lately, ive been going through a lot of shit. under the readmore is a bunch of stuff i need to get off my chest/make sense of. just be warned, its really long

you can read it if you want but its mostly complaining and cursing

riiiiight so about 2 months ago shit hit the fucking fan. Ive had problems with my neck thats caused very, very bad headaches for maybe 5/6 years or so. mostly i wasnt able to get anything done about it, being dependent on 2 parents who are both very pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps kind of people.in june though, i started working extra shifts at my job so i could pay for a chiropractor. and it worked, i had no headaches... for about a month. for a month after that the headaches came back, even though i was still seeing the chiropractor. AND FUCKING THEN

i was at work, my last weekend before i went on a 2-week trip to see my mom up in ohio! i was super excited. but also in a lot of pain too. most of the way through my shift i cracked my neck, a little bit too hard. all of a sudden i was floating about a foot over my head, i was getting hot flashes, and the left side of my throat went numb. of course, i panicked, told my manager and called my dad. my dad called his doctor and he said that since my hands/feet/anything werent tingling or anything like that I was alright, but i should still see a doctor. dad decided not to take me to the ER, but I was still goddamn scared. I still am, honestly. of course, this got more complicated. it was a saturday, so doctors offices were closed and wouldnt be open til monday, the day that id leave for ohio. it was a really hard decision but if i didnt get on the plane to ohio, i wouldve had to forfeit the trip entirely. so, i went to ohio and my mom set an appointment for thursday for a doctor.

i waited, we went, and i told my story to the doctor. she didnt do any tests on me, didnt even touch me. just said i had probably hit a nerve and that i was fine, and offered to prescribe medicine which i didnt want. EXCEPT. FOR FUCKS SAKE. the day after i went to the doctor i started feeling this pressure on the side of my throat,right in that fleshy part just underneath the back of your jaw.i thought and hoped it would go away. it fucking didnt. some days were better than others but on some days id be sightseeing with my family and id be silent, standing in a museum looking at The Plane that The Wright Brothers Themselves built, and trying not to panic bc the pressure in my throat was bad and it felt like i couldnt get enough air in. when i told my mom she told me to calm down. that did not help, at all. anyways, the rest of the trip passed and i flew home. EXCEPT. JESUS CHRIST. while i was on the plane, i was having a hard time popping my ear. I didnt have any gum (and i hate gum anyways bc of misophonia) so i ended up spending the entire plane ride moving my jaw to try and pressurize my ear. that, of course, ended up with me doing something to the right side of my jaw that makes it crackle and sometimes pop when i move it. it also hurts sometimes, which is weird bc the only jaw pain ive ever had was when i had all 4 of my wisdom teeth taken out at once. with the pressure in my throat though, it was kind of an afterthought at the time

anyways. since doctor #1 really hadnt done anything and i didnt have a primary doctor, i decided to go to the primary doctor my mom and sister went to when they still lived down here with me. its probably a good time to mention that that side of the family is the one im close to and im stuck here in florida for another year while i finish college. anyways. getting to him was a long wait but i got there and told him my story and he ordered some x rays of my neck and bloodwork, and prescribed me medicine. i waited for the tests and waited more for the follow up. looked at everything and told me everything was peachy keen, perfect except for a little bit of degeneration in my spinal vertebrae. it looked like things were kinda (really) out of his area of expertise, so he prescribed me a different medicine and a few sessions of physical therapy and recommended a nose & throat specialist to go to if the throat pressure didnt go away. i am goddamn lucky my dad offered to pay for my medical expenses. Doctor #3 was more or less useless.

on to doctor #3! he’s a neck specialist. i managed to get an appointment pretty quickly with him so i waited to see him. i didnt see him on the day of the appointment, but rather his assistant. she listened to my story (except that i forgot to tell her about the throat pressure thing. i s2g i go featherbrained around doctors) and then tested my arm and leg strength/mobility/general usefulness/whatever. then she ordered an mri of my neck. i waited for the mri, then waited again for the follow up. She, of course, said there was nothing wrong and when i remembered to tell her about the throat thing (which had still not gone away, 2 months later) she just looked kinda confused. she, like doctor #2, prescribed me a different medicine and a month of physical therapy. i think somewhere along the timeline of seeing doctor #3 my jaw started acting up again? i dont remember the exact timing of that but it hurt, and it sucked. my throat also started getting pretty uncomfortable when i talked, like i had to work harder to speak at a normal level. that also sucks when you work in a customer service job

so i managed to rule out that the throat thing wasnt bc of my neck and that my vertebrae werent gonna spontaneously combust or anything, i booked an apointment with the nose & throat specialist, which was on tuesday. by this time i was a damn mess. i still felt at times that i was having a hard time breathing and i really couldnt even think about it without going on the verge of a panic attack. 2 months and NO answers other than “huh, that’s weird” (the physical therapist literally told me that to my face). i had started to do research on my own for lack of anything better. that led me to eagle syndrome! which described exactly what i was feeling! (http://www.livingwitheagle.org/t/es-information-common-symptoms-and-possible-explanations-for-them/1389) and from what i read, there’s no cure! just analgesics and surgery, really. that really, really did not help- if you cant do anything then whats the point, right?

EX-FUCKING-CEPT. right around the time that i figured that out, i started having pain in my chest. i didnt know why it was happening (i later figured out that its bc when i sleep on my side i put too much pressure on my chest and it hurts me where my ribs and my sternum meet. it just decided to act up then). still though, i didnt know that at the time and let me tell you, when your chest starts hurting after youve been having whats more or less a 2-month-long constant panic attack, its goddamn TERRIFYING. i had lost my appetite a couple days before and had not been eating much, so i was weak and my heart was beating weirdly. i asked my dad what to do. he told me to call my primary, and they told me to go to the ER. i asked my dad to take me to the ER. his answer? “no, we’re going to an urgent care clinic”. the urgent care clinic, of course, couldnt do anything, while i sat there crying. (the doctor there, doctor #4, literally told me to just wait to see the nose & throat guy and that “i should try to be more composed when i see him”) meanwhile, when trying to talk about what ive been feeling to my parents, aka several mentions that i feel like im choking, i was just told to calm down. as if everything wasnt crumbling and going wrong.

so i waited until the appointment on tuesday. actually, no i didnt, i went into depression mode(TM), getting nothing done, and ended up in the doctors office an hour and a half before the appointment on the verge of tears. since it was uncomfortable to talk and something just outside of my throat had started hurting a week before, i had typed up my story (named “The Big Clusterfuck” on my computer). doctor #5 did some tests and mentioned eagle syndrome, even though i had only described it in the paper and not named it, and TMJ. he gave me prednisone for a week and told me to come back in a week. i feel bad for the man, i cried a lot.

ive managed to get my appetite back and have started eating again, and spent all of yesterday evacuating florida. i really, really hope the prednisone works. i dont know what im gonna do if it doesnt. if youre religious or do witchy stuff or whatever floats your boat, please send along a prayer or a spell or something. im not as bad as i was last week but im still Not Okay

#random crap #like if you read pls #the great clusterfuck 2k17

[theliterateape]

Hope Idiotic | Part 33

By David Himmel

Hope Idiotic is a serialized novel. Catch each new part every week on Monday and Thursday.

BECAUSE LOU NEVER OFFICIALLY MOVED BACK IN WITH MICHELLE, he wasn’t invited to move into the new condo with her. However, she was more than happy to have him and his car at her disposal to drive her around town so she could furnish her new place. And since she was shopping so much, he had to be was around quite a bit, so she frequently invited him to spend the night.

Being there made him uneasy, but it was better than being at his dad’s house in the ’burbs. Even though the commute to his sheet-metal-estimator job was less than five minutes from his dad’s house, living in his broken childhood home just wasn’t something he was willing to do. Plus, having to get up and leave before Michelle each morning to make the forty-five-minute commute created the impression urgency—supporting the fact that he was now a workingman with a committed responsibility to a steady paycheck. This was good for their delicate relationship. As long as Lou was going to work and making time to drive her from store to store on the weekends, Michelle was a happy sort-of girlfriend. And Lou could pretend that he lived in the city and that his life wasn’t slowly puttering uphill on an empty tank.

The Greatest Recession! had closed three weeks earlier. It was a big success as small shows go. Lou and Mark even made a little money on it. But without a project, Lou was getting restless again. He was making a little more than five hundred dollars a week and although he was beginning to get the hang of being an estimator, it wasn’t what he really wanted to be doing. So, he used a lot of his time at the shop to look for writing or marketing jobs and to brainstorm new show ideas he and Mark could develop. They pitched one to the Balcony called The Holiday Show. It was a long shot because the Balcony had never before picked back-to-back shows from the same people, at least not that Lou or Mark had ever heard. But there was no harm in putting it out there.

Lou and Michelle were still trying to get past the vast resentments that they held for one another. Things weren’t perfect, but they were calm. And for a while, the thought of their relationship going the distance looked promising. They planned a long-weekend getaway to Cozumel, Mexico, and were both looking forward to it. That trip would be just the thing they needed to put all those resentments to rest.

When they both returned to the condo on Friday night after work, they decided to take a stroll through the new neighborhood and check out a restaurant. It was mid-October, and fall was in full swing. Plenty of leaves had made their way to the sidewalks, and they walked hand in hand to the rhythm of the leaves crunching beneath their feet. The air was crisp and had a hint of burning leaves.

“I don’t know why you have to do this now. It’s going to ruin Christmas.”

They decided on a Cuban place called Café 28. As they were finishing their flan, Lou got a text from Mark.

Start writing. We open in a month.

“Holy shit,” Lou said.

“What is it?” Michelle asked.

Lou looked at her as a smile spread across his face. “Our show got picked up. We open in a month. That was Mark. This is incredible.”

“Wow. That’s great, baby. Good job.” She raised her margarita glass in a toast. He met her with his bottle of Hatuey.

On the walk home, Michelle asked, “So, when are rehearsals?”

“I don’t know. I’ll talk to Mark more about it tomorrow.”

“Do you think they’ll be at night? Or on the weekends?”

“I’m not sure. Probably both. Why?”

She pulled her hand out of his. “You’ll be spending all of your time at rehearsals and Friday nights at the shows.”

Lou laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not going to take up all of my time. Rehearsals are a few hours out of the day.”

“All you’re going to care about is this show. I don’t want to have to spend all of my Fridays watching your show again.”

“You didn’t watch every night. And you won’t have to watch every night. Just see it once.”

“Because we have things to do, Lou. We have traditions, you know? How are we going to get our tree if you’re at rehearsal? How are we supposed to open presents?”

“Michelle, there will be time to do everything. Don’t worry about it. What’s going on here? This is a good thing for me—for us.”

“I don’t know why you have to do this now. It’s going to ruin Christmas.”

Lou felt the air leave his lungs. His stomach sank. His heart began racing. He felt hot. He was furious. They were quiet during the rest of the walk back to the condo. Lou didn’t notice that he walked a few steps ahead of her until he had to wait for her to catch up and unlock the door.

“Some gentleman you are,” she said. “Thanks for walking with me.”

He barely heard her say it.

Upstairs, in the condo, Michelle went into the small bedroom, which had been turned into an office. Lou poured himself a scotch and sat on the chaise lounge that used to be in the bedroom of the old apartment—it was the only piece of furniture in the living room. They were planning on going couch-shopping the next day. The lights were off in the apartment. With the tree branches mostly bare and no blinds or shades on the windows, the only light in the room came from the nearly full moon and the streetlight on the corner. Lou sat in the yellowish whiteness, sipping his scotch, now realizing for sure that he needed to get out of whatever was left of their relationship.

✶

FOR YEARS, LOU THOUGHT MICHELLE WAS HIS FRIEND. But right there, on that street in Chicago, on that perfect midwestern October night, it was clear to him that Michelle was anything but. She hadn’t been a friend for a long time. A drinking buddy and a sex partner, maybe, but not a friend. At the beginning of their romance, Michelle made a helluva case that she was okay with Lou; that she liked him and accepted all his faults and would support him throughout his career. She painted a beautiful picture of their future in which they would fight together through life’s difficult times and rejoice together during its triumphs. They were sure they were going to be good together as partners. But that never happened. She sold him a bill of goods, and he bought them all. Buyer beware. Because Michelle was not a partner. She was a hindrance.

He almost reached this conclusion the last time he was in Las Vegas, before she begged him to come home again. He didn’t see it otherwise because he had to choose not to. They stayed together because they made a commitment. Their story was too perfect to not last. It was time to settle down, get married, raise kids, grow old together on park benches feeding birds and reading newspapers. Who better to do that with than someone who was a friend first? And the sex was amazing. They had constructed a fairytale future, and abandoning it was not an option. Most of all, Lou chose to stay and fight for the relationship because he needed her. Since he’d been in Chicago, Michelle gave him a place to live, even though she charged him rent. It was better than being at that broken home with his dad and his brother. He came to the city with the goal to advance his career and his personal life. When he arrived and his plans went to hell, the relationship was the only thing he could control even a little bit. Being Michelle’s boyfriend was his only identity and all that he could hold on to. It had become his full-time job.

But now with a little bit of money coming in, a widening group of new friends and the potential to make his way as a writer—the two shows were proof that he had at least some talent—it finally hit him that he didn’t have to hold on to Michelle. She wasn’t worth holding on to. His energies would be better spent elsewhere.

But where would he live? Where would he go? How would he cut all the cords he managed to tangle up with Michelle over ten years of knowing her; almost three years of dating her? He had the marriage talk with her parents. He spent money on a ring. He couldn’t just walk out and disappear. There were too many of those cords tying them together.

It didn’t matter anymore, he thought. He had to leave. Being with Michelle was no longer an option. He needed an escape route—and fast.

✶

MICHELLE CAME OUT OF THE HOME OFFICE. “Lou?” He didn’t answer. He was busy brooding and plotting. “Lou?” she said again as she approached him on the chaise lounge. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

“I’m sorry I said all that back there. I am happy for you. I know you won’t let this show ruin Christmas.” She returned to the office.

She sounded sincere. It didn’t matter. He was done.

I called Lou a little past 10 p.m. in Chicago. I never called past six o’clock.

“Hey, man. You all right?” Lou asked as he took the call.

“Not really,” I said.

“What’s up? Natalie kick you out?”

“Chuck’s dead.”

I had said this before. There was an ongoing joke between the three of us that each time Chuck would disappear for a weekend of self-destructive behavior, I would call Lou and say, “Your friend Chuck is dead. I don’t know what the fuck happened to him this weekend.” Lou thought this was another one of those instances.

“Really. What’d he do this time?”

A small laugh got past me. “No. He’s really dead.”

“What do you mean, he’s dead? Like dead-dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Like in-the-ground-dead?”

“Yeah.”

Lou stood up. “Are you telling me that my best friend is fucking dead!?”

“Yeah.”

Michelle came into the living room. Lou turned to her. She looked confused and scared. She mouthed, “Who’s dead? What happened?” Lou turned away.

“I’m sorry I have to call you with this,” I said.

“Jesus fucking Christ. What happened?”

“He didn’t show up for work today. No one could get a hold of him. Lexi went over to the house. Found him in his car in your garage.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I wish. Kind of fucked up. He actually just went to sleep.”

Another twisted joke that wasn’t as funny anymore.

“It wasn’t suicide,” Lou said.

“I don’t think so. But it looks like—”

“It wasn’t suicide.”

“I know.”

“Was he drunk?”

“Probably. There was an empty bottle of wine in the car.”

“What a fucking asshole.”

“You going to be okay?”

“Are you?”

“Too soon to tell.”

“Did Lexi talk to his parents?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry, Lou.”

“I’m sorry for you, too, Neal.”

“I love you, bro.”

“I love you, too. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He closed his phone, dropped it on the chaise lounge and gulped back the rest of his scotch.

I went back into my bedroom and cried in Natalie’s arms.

✶

“WHAT HAPPENED?” Michelle asked him.

Lou set his empty glass on the counter that divided the living room from the kitchen and looked at her. Rage filled him. “Chuck is dead.”

“What!?”

“He’s fucking dead! Are you happy now?”

“Oh my God! Happy? Why would I be happy?” She began crying.

Lou made another drink. “Now you don’t have to worry about him fucking things up for us anymore. You don’t have to worry about Chuck Keller ever again because he’s fucking dead.”

“Oh, Lou. I’m so sorry. How did this happen?”

She moved to hug him. A small part of him wanted her comfort. But the rest of him did not. More rage.

“Don’t touch me!” he said as he pushed her away.

He grabbed his jacket from the back of the stool against the counter.

“Where are you going?”

“To get a drink.”

“Do you want company? Maybe you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“I’m fine. I’ve always been better on my own.”

✶

“I’LL HAVE A MILLER LITE AND A CAPTAIN AND SEVEN,” he told the bartender. The bar was two blocks from Michelle’s condo. It was a dump. Just the kind Chuck would have loved.

“Double fisting, eh?” said the bartender, a cute, but gently used-looking woman with dark hair and big tits. Also the kind Chuck would have loved. “Celebrating something?”

“My best friend just died. These were his favorite drinks.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. They’re on the house then, sweetie.”

He drank and quietly cried.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32

#Bildungsroman #Hope Idiotic #Fiction #Chicago Fiction #David Himmel Fiction #David Himmel Novel #David Himmel Author #Dark Humor #Carbon Monoxide Poisoning

[agirlnamedsteve]

Life Updates 11/24/2018

Ahhhh. It’s been a whirlwind since I got to Bolivia last week. It’s been approximately 12 days since we got here and we have 3 weeks left to go until I’m home. About 23 days until I touch down in D.C. (not that I’m counting or anything…) and I’m not wishing away my time here in any way. Except I kinda had a day when I spiraled a few days ago, actually it was this past thursday on Thanksgiving and oh my will this be a memorable one. I had moved into my homestay the day before and I think a whirlwind of emotions and feelings I’d been suppressing got to me right away when I became disappointed about the circumstances of my homestay. I generally love to be optimistic and look on the bright side, but I was not in any place to be making the best of my experience. Not only was my homestay in a “satellite cluster” which means it’s far away from Ismael’s house and everyone else, but it has NO WIFI and I have to share a room with a girl on my trip who I’m not especially close with and the bed is small and uncomfortable and the bathroom is really only half functioning and there is a huge language barrier and my 2 homestay sisters are fluent in spanish and yo hablo un poco, entiendo mas. It was all a HUGE pill to swallow. And I don’t want to sound ungrateful because my homestay mama is super lovely and so nice and makes us good food. There is just something really hard about accepting that in the spread of homestays mine is on the way bottom of the scale. And to make things even more stressful, my homestay sisters are gone for the weekend on a trip to the salt flats, so they were stressed leading up to our community dinner to protest settler colonialism but celebrate friendship and love and being in bolivia. And like, very randomly, my homestay mom mentioned off-hand that we might be going to the country this weekend to visit her family and I have a huge paper to finish up by later this week (my semester-long research project). ALSO needless to say I’ve just been fucking wacky since Max and I broke things off. I’ve felt pretty isolated from a form of support and love I had and pretty sad about it all. It’s really such a loss for me to know that because I was having a freakout and getting way too excited about Hannah (who’s been not responding to me recently) and about the possibility of dating other people when I really just want to be with him. And we know that we don’t work long distance so it’s just such a bummer. We are SO good when we’re together. I wish circumstances were different because this sucks. And I don’t regret being honest with him about where my head and heart are but it just feels bad knowing that I made the call that led to this outcome. So yeah, this all hit me pretty hard at our dinner on thanksgiving and I spent a long time moping to olivia and mom about how homesick I am right now, and then cried about max, and then spent like an hour trying to get data on my phone (definitely spent money and got data for like 12 hours). It started out great and I had good food and we played music, but then I fell down a rabbit hole and really couldn’t be rescued from myself. Went home that night with a friend who lives in the satellite cluster and we both got bummed about how hard it was for us to figure out the radio taxi situation and how that would be our reality for the next 3 weeks. But I went home and had a good night of sleep and woke up and went to the gym and got a good workout in and bought a membership for the month so I will be getting back into lifting shape (!!!) hopefully during my time here and prioritizing that, and went over to my friend’s house that has wifi and spent multiple hours there getting together my research and got excited about WRITING IT which I need to do so badly (jesus christ I have put off actually writing this so much it’s an issue). Oh! And in between gym and paper research stuff I hung out at home with the fam and the baby granddaughter and then went to run some errands with my host mama and her driver man/boyfriend guy and we went like 30 minutes to the outskirts of cochabamba, picked up some (read: a lot of) red polo shirts, drove through a market where she picked up fruits and I got a little bit of watermelon! Yum! And then we dropped off the polo shirts somewhere else, and then headed back home. We were gone for like an hour and a half and given that we can’t really communicate it was a silly time. Last night I fell asleep early but woke up at like 2 am with the itchy fire of mosquito bites and lots of bugs buzzing in my ear and I was hot and sweaty but didn’t want to expose more skin to the bugs for biting me so I just laid there sweaty and really uncomfy. Kind of a bummer… but went back to sleep and woke up this morning, walked the 30 minutes to meet the group before we went to an art walk around this cool downtown district of Cochamaba with a dope guide who was really fun to hang out with, got to hang out with our new fellow Jessie, and then walked around to find myself some lunch since home is too far away from the cafe I wanted to work at with WIFI and now I am here! Walked around a lot today, have about 3 hours until I need to be headed home, and then I’m going to hopefully hit up the gym, and then head out to meet friends to listen to live music and hang for the night! Things are definitely looking up, I think my weekend would have been different if my homestay sisters hadn’t left me to fend for myself, but I can’t control how others make me feel because that’s not them, it’s me. And it’s true. I was initially disappointed at my situation and very dramatically reacting to it, but knowing that my friend’s house has wifi means I can go there to do work or anything that wifi provides me, and the gym is super close, and i’ll be in class for a lot of the week and weekends will be another beast! And soon communication with the host family will be better when they’re back and we’re all in this transport situation together and it will feel good to have routine! And I can go get myself a new data plan if need be! And I will be home and 21 within the month! Which is wacky wild and crazy. And I spend my birthday in the Amazon Rainforest, so that’s dope AF. Life is wild!!!