AS HAPPY AS I WANT TO BE

I haven’t blogged in a few days because I have been preoccupied with my search for….a partner?….a girlfriend?….a one night stand?….a way to avoid the reality of my life…no question mark…no mystery here really. I have been going online tellin’ myself I’m goin’ to blog only to end up browsin’ datin’ sites. I really have no interest in any of these women and, the real ones anyway, have no interest in me. I mean, at the end of this month, I’m scheduled to fly down to see a friend I’ve been talkin’ to for over a year. I’ve got the ticket and it looks like I’m in for a good time. At least, she is excited about my visit and has some things planned for us to do. Things, she says, that will “make” me “happy.” She says she “will Make” me “happy.”

Now, happy has always been a condition/emotion/state of mind hard for me to accept w/ any consistency. Oh, it’s alright once in a while but, as soon as the novelty wears off, I want to find a gripe, a bitch…somethin’ wrong. I want things to return to the my maladjusted idea of “normal.” And, for me, most times, it’s not normal to be happy.

Not for the past almost 7 years anyway.  I can’t say I’ve been miserable because I have not. I can’t say I’ve been depressed because I have not. I can say I’ve felt mostly uneasy since 12/30/2006. That’s the last time I’ve had a girlfriend. And, from 1993 t0 2006, this woman was more than a girlfriend, I considered her to be my wife…for life. I considered her to be my “true love.” And, even though she wouldn’t marry me, I knew she loved me and, most of the time, felt the same way I did. And, even though she had the ex-husband from hell and 2 daughters committed to reek havoc on our lives, we weathered most of our troubles w/ good humor and a positive attitude.

Until I resigned from my position as prevention counselor from the local mental health center and brought my gravely ill brother home to live w/ us. That was the beginning of the end for us. Not because I quit my job. Not because my brother required most if not all of my attention. No, it was the beginning of the end for us because, after I resigned and took on my brother, my attitude toward my love changed.

My attitude changed.

It went from welcoming her help to askin’ her to back off. It went from bein’ happy to do things and enjoy my time w/ her to begrudgin’ her askin’ for attention and takin’ me away from my “duties.” I argued w/ her and asked her not to help me or my brother any more. I talked myself into thinkin’ I was doin’ her afavor when I told her we ought to “take a break from each other” knowin’ that she’d take that to mean I didn’t want to be her “man” anymore. And, truth was, I didn’t think I had it in me to be her man, put up w/ her family, put up w/ my family and take care of my brother. Somethin’ had to give so I gave her the heave ho. I told her she needed to go on w/ her own life so much that she finally agreed and, after I cancelled a night before New Year’s Eve date, our relationship was over.

And I’ve regretted it ever since. I regret my hasty decision. I’m glad she has gone on w/ her life. I’ve accepted she has found another man and I’ve accepted she has less and less time for me though we remain close friends. But, now, I regret my loneliness. I regret my loneliness and, at the same time, accept it to be my penance for my grave, spiritual mistake. Yes, squeezing the love of my life out of my life just about cost me my soul and, after my brother died, left me feeling I got what I deserved.

Now, I’m reconsidering my options and I don’t like the glimmer of hope I feel when I’m makin’ plans to see my new friend. I feel guilty every time I smile at something she says or writes. I think, “I’ve got more sufferin’ to do.”

And that’s when I take to the date sites and browse for an insincere vixen who thinks she can sweet talk me into forkin’ over a few bucks. And, though I say, “No.” I want to say, “Yes.”

I want to say, “Yes,” because it’s the absolute wrong thing for me to say if I want to be happy.

Advertisements

About joefingas

I am a songwriter, poet, blues singer, and a boogie woogie piano player. I have a grandson but I have no children of my own. All my women have wised up and left me. I was a bum, a wino, a drug/alcohol counselor, a prevention/intervention specialist and a pretender. I have no more time to pretend.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s