MAY 31, 2008: “The Lost Realist” …

Why was he crying when we pulled away? I didn’t understand it at all. Was he crying for her, or because Christian was leaving, too? Or did he somehow know that I was never coming home again? The distance between us is light years by now, so surely, it’s not me he’ll be missing. My roommate … my friend … my “hero”. I mean, he truly is all those things that I’ve said before: Self-made, hard-working, and I’m pretty sure that he’s been faithful. Nineteen years of going back and forth can’t have been a complete and total lie.

Even so, we are only roommates … nothing more and nothing less. In my heart of hearts, I think I’ve always known that he never really wanted to marry me in the first place. Maybe someday he’ll realize it, too. We kill each other, sling mud at each other, and rip open each other’s raw wounds. We were a toxic collision right from the start, and I’ve known this all along.

I’ve stood in front of him begging and pleading at least a thousand times now, but he keeps telling me to just go away. He’s always said that his words are only ever said in anger, but his actions and inactions always spoken volumes. He lives in a place a million miles away from me, so, why then was he crying? Wasn’t this what he wanted?

Don’t let the door hit you in the ass!

I’ve often said that he’s never left my side, but that’s not really true. I have been on my own where my mental wealth is concerned, and now he just thinks I’m a raving lunatic. “A pathetic, joke of a human being”, he once said. “A huge fucking joke of a human being!”

Oh, God, there goes my daughter. The limo is pulling away and she is crying, too. What I’m most scared of in this very moment is that the tiny dancer waving goodbye to her mommy is in danger of becoming me. Is this what I want her to become? What if she gets into a tangle of her own with my dragon? What if she turns 38 one day and can’t find her own reflection in the mirror? That baby will learn what she lives, and will only become the woman I teach her to be. So, how can I teach her to become a strong and healthy woman when I don’t know how to be one myself? How will I teach her to love herself when I can’t practice what I preach?


My independence is calling my name, a doubtful voice divides my faith. My independence only hesitates an unsure choice I can’t embrace. You’re gonna have to carve me, carve me from stone, right to the bone or I’ll end up alone. I’m paying the role of someone in control. Why do I rush to slow down? Why do I rush to slow down everything? Will the dice ever roll? When will I ever know? Will the plot ever twist, or will I still resist? I’ve been playing the part of a lost realist. My independence is turning the page, tomorrow comes we start to fade. My independence only complicates, it’s not enough to meet half way. I only keep what I give awa