I have a lot of time on my hands nowadays. I guess that’s what happens when a long term relationship that you are in for a few years ends. That routine of waking up every morning, spooning with her butt against your crotch, and rocking wood (read: a painful piss boner) happens no more.
Thus you have the pleasures of reading the scribbles of a dickhead (yours truly, of course!). Of course, I haven’t used much of my newfound free time to write about much more than a bunch of horse shit, but I’m working on that.
I haven’t eased back into the single guy lifestyle yet. I was a pro at it before my last relationship, but the style and duration of the relationship left me complacent with my life by the end of things. Nonetheless, I will adjust, and my first step is this weekend when debauchery occurs.
I have to be honest, though. I miss waking up in the mornings on weekends with her, cooking up some bacon and toast, eating, then going back to bed (sex, then sleep) before waking up for the day in the late afternoon.
One of the things I think that’s underrated in a relationship is physical, sexual chemistry. American people, for whatever reason, don’t like to talk about it out loud. “Oh, sex isn’t everything!” they say, and I agree, sex isn’t everything, but if two people are in a relationship and they have lousy sex, how do you expect that relationship to subsist in the long run?
A lot of the fellas I went to high school with are already married. I can’t imagine that, at this stage in my life. Sure, at one point in time, I thought I was going to marry the last girl, but it’s become painfully obvious that the circumstances weren’t (aren’t) right for now, so the idea of marriage or anything official is a sobering idea to me. Nowadays people change so much by the time they are in their 30s and 40s that marrying in one’s early 20s just isn’t a solid, smart option for 95% of people out there.
After the relationship ended and I was emotionally stifled by the change of things in my life, Michael, who’s like a much older brother to me (he’s about 42 and is a veteran of life among being an actual Army vet), told me while we were tearing down a couple of PBRs (Pabst Blue Ribbon beer), “At this stage in your life, never give yourself away to one girl. You are a handsome dude and you should be pounding a plethora of pussy! And I never use the word plethora!” I had a good laugh at that, but he was speaking from experience. Michael got married when he was only 20, and that ended horrifically, but I’ll spare the details.
I don’t know which direction I’m heading in my life, which route I’m taking in terms of a career. Right now I just want to be happy, purely. I want to control the bullshit stress I’ve felt for the past two years. The stress I’ve put myself through, I’d never wish that on another person. I’m not trying to sit here and delve into self pity, because there were options I could have taken to manage my stress levels, but I am trying to warn others that unwarranted stress can truly kill your personality and happiness if you let it.
I’m back on the road to enlightenment. I admit that I know nothing but anything, so here I am, trying to figure shit out and using this blog to document my observations in life.