A few years down the track: Another year in the life of your schmuck ex husband

Dear Lindsay,

Ex wife, first lover, all that good stuff...

I know now what I didn't know then, or at least I think I have a better idea. Just a few weeks ago I discovered you are expecting your first child with the man that has made you so happy. May I be the first to say congrats, couldn't happen to a nicer couple. I mean, you did it, it didn't matter who got left behind or what you had to do to get there, you have figured out all of the american dream. So, bully for you. This letter, however, is not about you. You know all about you, this is about me.




I discovered recently that the "last letter" I ever wrote to you, wrapping up some anger and that sort of stuff, is the most read post on my blog. You told me once I had too much pride, well I took that and ran with it after the divorce. My ego and loving myself is just about the only consistent love I have allowed myself in the past three years. I realized when you left me that first of all I didn't deserve to be hurt like that, and second, I gave you that power by trusting you, by needing your love and approval. I resolved I would never hurt like that again. Anyway we're getting off topic. The point is due to my enlarged ego I care about what my few fans think. Anything that I could write that would be worth reading even once is a triumph to me. So now, I'm going to write a sort of follow up. That letter dealt very much with the past, this will deal very much with who I am now, who, thanks to you I have become.




I have no delusions that you will ever read this. I mean, someone as happy and lucky as you doesn't need to care about people in your debris trail. This is more along the lines of... a letter to a dead friend, loved one, the only person I ever trusted as much as I trusted you. I miss feeling that way. It's painful for me to say I miss you. You've done so many horrible things, how could I miss someone like that?
When I was with you was the happiest time of my life. I was poor, I was confused, I didn't know alot of things, but I knew I had you. Knowing that was enough for me, at least then. I realize now that, life being what it is, that special moment is over now. It makes me cherish every precious good day, because now I know how rare they are.




So let's talk about consequences. In the past year I was with four women and four men. I officially tried fucking men this year and since you thought it was a good idea I figure you would be proud. Of course you wouldn't be if I was still yours, but not belonging to you, who knows what those rules are. I reached a point that I realized that no woman could take the domination role lovingly, that's a man thing. I thought, foolishly, that being dominated would be kinky for me in a way that would help me get off. It wasn't. It took a long string of women and men to figure that out. One man was able to make love to me, or as close as I can imagine to what that feels like. It was pretty damn special. But, in the end, I realized something about myself:
I don't like the control that an intense relationship puts on my life. Playing with people? Yeah that's cheap and easy and I don't get hurt. But desiring people on that deep interconnected "want to taste their skin" level is too much.

Which leads to how I almost got remarried this year. I met an absolutely amazing woman. Educated, fun, my family liked her, could make a mean cocktail, made love like no one else I have EVER met, and she had quite a future ahead of her. She wasn't too good for me, she was just right. Oh and it didn't hurt that she was beautiful. But, she wanted to do the whole bag right away and that SCARED me to death. And I ran out.... I regret that, like I regret letting you get to the point that you did what you did, like I regret not trying to make it work. But, the past is the past, once down a river you can't swim against the tide. She's moving now... Getting her dream, just like you. I swear leaving me is the best thing that happens to most girls I'm with. Well *deep hearty chuckle* except one.

I loved a woman. That's right, loved, gave her everything, tried to be there for her, actually lived for a number of months in an ersatz marriage. Tried to make it work romantically when all she wanted was platonic. It blew up in my face. I had to live with the results for six months. I've paid for it by being broken into twice this year. But, believe it or not, she got the worst of the deal. You see, the man she started seeing after we broke up got her pregnant, actually she raped him for his seed and is slowly squeezing the life out of him. Anyway, the catch? The doctors have said that having this baby will probably kill her. If it doesn't, she's in so much trouble financially and with DHS, it's doubtful that the child will get to stay with her. And that, it appears my dear, is what happens when you screw with me.... well except to you. Too few cases to prove a rule.

But, that pregnancy, and yours, and a friends, and working at a mental health hospital for children has all convinced me of one thing: Children don't make you happier, healthier, or in any way improve your quality of life UNLESS there are some damn good things going on.  I realize now that I am too selfish to have children at the present time. For one I like sleeping in. I'm even too selfish to get married.... I can't stand the idea of losing half my stuff because a woman gets tired of me and realizes there are more handsome and richer men... I mean I could have told her that, and if a woman ever wants to marry me believe me I will.

I've tried, failed and will try again at school. I've almost stayed with my job for a year and THAT is a surprise. Turns out all it took is being able to shift it to center focus and not having a woman dragging me down. In slightly related news I have been diagnosed with anxiety and depression, and am medicated for it. I managed to stay in a relationship for 7 months so far. It's a contented sort of thing.

That's about it, that's the news from lake wobegon.

Love,

your schmuck ex husband

P.S.

Reference in the title to the letter: A few years down the track
This is a reference to a song from a book from a comic strip called bloom county.
The song is called: I'm a boinger
The complete line is:
And a few years down the track we'll be a Las Vegas lounge act
We'll be back
We'll be back
cause we're the Boingers.

Blog analysis

Oh, one more thing (I know, shut up and go to bed Max, I'm working on it):
I searched for blog analysis while working on my last post. I really wanted to find out what my most repeated phrase was, but alas, no luck. What I found first was an age analysis. It said I was between 18 and 25, pretty good. I ran it through a myers briggs type indicator, and it got three out of four letters right. It said I was an ISFJ, where I am actually probably an INFJ. Either way, that's a cool toy.

mysterious blog post and planned follow up

So, for those of you who don't know I like checking my stats. This helps me find out when I do good writing and fine tune my work for the future.
One major discovery I have been making over the past year is that the post titled "Goodbye Letter to my wife" has been way more popular than anything else I have ever written. Believe me I've tried to recreate the elegance of the writing, but I know that the raw power of me ripping through the woman who scorned me is difficult to recreate. The biggest mystery though has to do with the steady flow of traffic to the post. I have come up with two alternatives. Either there is one person who likes to re read it..... let's be honest I hope that is what it is, or it deals with issues that are constantly at large in our society.

As far as that goes I plan on revisiting those issues in an anniversary post. Maybe some of the mysterious fans of this post will come out of the woodwork, or not, either way. Tah!

Where-in male ego, male attraction and a coming to terms with an egomaniacs shortcomings is revealed

Yay, first chance to do a post since my computer was stolen. I will say that until I get a new laptop to work on our visits will be fewer, but I will also try to make them more meaningful. I'm shooting for one a week.

So on to the topic of today's ranting and raving. Literally just now (5 minutes ago as of typing this) I found out that one of my friends from high school is engaged. Male friends I should point out, almost all of my female friends are engaged and or married (yes there IS one that is both). Many of them are also expecting children. But on to my male friend. I flatter myself that he was my friend I should say, given that he gave me no indication that he had any interest in being my friend at all during high school.

Which brings us to the first major point of my rant: I am not as attractive or popular as I posture. Which begs the question, given an honest and frank assessment of my own mind: How attractive am I? Well I could post a link and ask for opinions, but that would be the most utterly vain and pointless thing to do ever. First of all no matter how large a sample audience I could get here, their opinion would always be weighted and biased. No this is an inner journey I need to explore.

What constitutes being attractive and popular? Is it number of friends/lovers? And who determines what amount of either is average or exceptional. Let me start out by saying I consider myself attractive enough that if there is no one more attractive seeking the attention of the object of my affection, I can entrance them into giving me a good chance to figure out if we can work. That is a long winded way of saying that I don't think I'm ugly. However the size of my ego means that I must also point out that I am not the most attractive man in the universe. Not even in the top million I would say. That fact makes me sad. I know I should be mature enough to figure out that, but it would be nice to be best at something.

Now for the second point, anyone thinking I'm clean cut, kind or normal can either leave or get over it before I reach this point.

Point two: There are very rare men I find attractive. This one is both straight and not attracted to me. Nevertheless, as the object of my boyhood affection, I am saddened to find he is marrying a woman. It's a similar feeling to when I found out my hot 9th and 10th grade science teacher was married, then pregnant. Sort of a loss of innocence to find that the one your little innocent heart believed could be yours cannot be with you. I mean logically I know I would never have been with him. For one, I fall on the straight side of the spectrum. I like breasts too much. I don't say that to be comical, it's true.

While we are discussing my sexuality, let's look at a strange dream I had the other night. In the dream I was meeting a girl at a local arcade/bar/cafe I take my boys to sometimes as a treat. Her father was there and apparently wanted me and his little girl to become an item. She couldn't have been more than 19, very innocent looking, white dress etc. I was kind of meh about the whole thing, given my sadder but wiser girl policy. But then she just starts taking her clothes off, she is apparently getting turned on by my ways of the world. I look down to find I am taking my clothes off. What's more, I'm wearing my white suit! The symbolism is so powerful. For one, I find that I am attracted to innocent girls that wish to be corrupted. That alone is a huge development in my psyche. It promises great growth in the area of mating. Second I see myself as a viral man with upstanding virtues. Alright, hitting the limits of this medium, the computer is getting wonky, bye bye for now.

perseverance

"Perseverance is the word for you"
http://www.oru.edu/wordforyou/index.php?id=20130205_perseverance#.URHn345uWn0.facebook

so I was browsing good old facebook, checking up on the ex's, good old reliable ex's, always living better lives than I.  While on the subject my ex wife is having a fucking baby, thank you very much universe I'm glad the polls are officially in that she won. She gets to be fucking happy and I get fucking freedom, how do you like them apples? I hate freedom, it's a big lie with a ribbon around it. Let's take the second amendment issue (since it's such a big deal lately). Big gov says I have the right to own and use weapons. So, that's cool, however with that freedom comes problems, the problem being... so does everyone else. It suddenly becomes a very expensive freedom to have. Personally, I don't want to spend my hard earned money on an instrument to kill people. Nor do I want to spend my time learning to fire said weapon supposing one was available to me. So the more fortunate in the ways of time and money get an advantage over me thanks to this freedom, after all there is no one to look out for the little guy. If you try to limit who can have guns then people start going nuts thinking that no one will get them.
Divorce is the same way. I got sold a bill of goods, a simple quid pro quo of if you get rid of the somewhat dysfunctional woman you have, you can go out and find a more functional woman for you, she can find a better man for her, everybody wins. But they don't. Because the person with greater means will always come out on top. God blessed her with a magic hole that makes men do whatever she wants them to. Meanwhile my magical equipment allows me to have all the sex I want. So I took my powers and used them to their fullest, and now I've had so much I have next to no sex drive. She used her powers and got herself a new man who apparently pays for everything in her life, and now she is getting to start a family, which is pretty much the realization of the american fucking dream.

 FUCK. I hate it. I hate it when I bet on the wrong guy. The wrong guy being me and God. Which comes back to the center issue. The whole message I found on an ex's site centers on how giving up is futile. Now, since he made it a logical issue, let's deal with it with some of our own fucking logic. So, idea presented is that giving up is a 100% bad idea in that you can't see the results of your investment. I'm going to use a business model because business is what I understand. Supposing a friend of mine is starting a company. He's got biiiig ideas and he needs biiiiig capital. Translating as I go the friend represents God, the company represents the "vision" he has for my life, the capital he is asking for is my time, emotional and physical energy. Resources is the point. Resources that could be used elsewhere. But, my friend is one hell of a talker and he tells me this is a sure thing. I mean his credit is HUGE. The guy could make anything work. So, I invest $100. A year comes around he asks for another $100. He tells me that until it takes off he will be asking for $100 a year until he turns a profit. Meanwhile, and this is where everything gets funky, he can't show me a single FUCKING REPORT PROVING THE BUSINESS EVEN EXISTS. WHEN I ASK HIM WHERE THE PROFIT IS GOING TO COME FROM HE TELLS ME TO HAVE FAITH IN HIM IT'S FUCKING COMING.
I check in with him every now and then, see how the investments are doing, he won't tell me anything. Meanwhile my personal business (translation my life) is taking major losses trying to keep his afloat. Trying to stay in business is proving to be much harder than anticipated and I ask him for help. I ask him to show me a way out. He doesn't, says struggle builds character and tells me to call him in a few months, and he'll get back to me when things change. There are huge talks of partnership of our two businesses and that leading to big profits for all involved. Again, the problem is that he doesn't ever show up with the paperwork. My friends, my family, everyone in my life tells me to move on that he's never going to come through and I need to double down on reinvesting in my own business.

 But, this business guru who knows my business partner way better than I tells me I need to hold onto my investment, despite the fact that currently it has no worth. Despite the fact that it is costly to keep alive. Despite the fact that I'm not getting any younger and this investment has yet to pay dividends. In the face of all these problems, I'm supposed to have faith. On some level, I still do.

 But, to paraphrase Job, man did I mess up by making this bargain. I am so regretful that I put everything on the line with this. I have no idea how this can work out, and it really would be supernatural for this to get turned around. The day I turned to God might as well have been the day I died as far as the world was concerned because following him has put more things to cause me to stumble in my path than I could ever have imagined. If I could go back three years and tell myself where I would be for being an upright and honest man with the Lord, I would have remained a sinner. I cannot imagine what sort of delusional state I would have to be under to want to convert someone to follow this convoluted path.

 Had I taken the shorter path, of greed and prosperity, I would have certainly seen better results. As it is, I took this path. And the man is right, I committed to it. As the good book says whatever you do, do it with all your heart. He has all my heart and if it is his will to make me mournful of my existence and to wish it over, then so be it. I pledged my all to him, my happy and my sad, my up and my down and he has rewarded me with beautiful wonderful goodness, and also with sadness unspeakable. I have died and been brought back. From the highest peak to the lowest valley, he has taken me on a roller coaster ride through the human experience, and now I just seek some sort of meaning of it all. He's such a comedian I doubt there is one. It's like Monty Python and the holy grail. I wouldn't be surprised if he made the sun to shine on me again only to have me die of a heart attack. He's got that kind of humor. Seeking seeking seeking, oops you're dead. It amuses me how the Christian masses preach the wages of sin as death. What exactly are the wages of righteousness? Misery, woe and character. The wages of sin is death and a release from the pains of this world. What a masochist is the righteous man? As far as I can see the wages of honesty and virtue are pain and disappointment.
Onward we march, to our seemingly certain defeat, yet we march just the same. We sing our battle cry to attempt to silence the fear in our hearts that our deaths will mean nothing. That we will have just been flailing bits of flesh for our makers amusement and little more. Life is the way we are interviewed by God, let us pray that we all get the job.

Good and evil and an ongoing push to understand sex addiction

For a long time I have looked for a clear definition of good and evil. It's oh so simple to say "well if you agree with me, you must be good. And a logical conclusion you must be evil for disagreeing with me." To some degree this is ego stroking and I understand it. However, I can't go on a witch hunt against everyone who disagrees with me, for example I wouldn't be able to live in a world with the Fox network (slightly teasing there, stay steady conservative friends.) However, growing to be an adult about these things I realize that I thrive on knowing others have views contrary to mine. Examining their views helps me understand my own. I have come to the conclusion that the one true enemy is fear. Fear is evil, it cripples and kills and serves no good purpose. So then what is good? Acceptance is good, unselfish love is the only absolute good I know of.

Last night I reached a new place in my relationship with pornography. I was well and truly disgusted by the sexual degradation of my fellow man. So I thought I must cut this thing out of my life entirely..... and as I discussed last night, that is a crock of shit. Escapism is essential to mental health and all that. However I remain unhappy with the amount of time I spent searching for good pornography

useful resources:
http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/sexual-intelligence/201105/porn-addict-or-selfish-bastard-life-is-more-complicated

http://thehumanist.org/july-august-2012/you%E2%80%99re-addicted-to-what/

Musings about love, personal connections, smoking and Porn...

My mother said to me: If you want to stop smelling like smoke, just stop smoking. It's not that easy I told her. She did not understand. At this point I realized I wasn't really talking about smoking. I go off and on with tobacco and I don't have a huge problem with it. I was talking about..... I hate to say it I'm dependent on a great many things.
Last month I moved the TV to the living room. I told everyone including my therapist this was for better sleep. In reality I wanted to smoke while enjoying my favorite shows.... sue me, I can be honest with myself. I continue to travel down a long path with porn that I see no possible escape from. Some options, such as cutting myself off from sexual thought seem to take away my identity. Other, less radical options such as simply stopping watching videos seem like they may not be enough. Regardless, Something has to give. I hate looking at what I can't have. I wouldn't drool over pictures of cars I can't afford. I shouldn't, logically, drool over anything that will never be mine. I'm free musing here and I know I contradict myself. This is on purpose. On the other hand living out fantasies of what I cannot have does allow me the magic of the human mind to imagine that I do have them. Simple escapism is the oldest cure for depression. I mean during the great depression, the porn of the times was little orphan Annie being adopted by a millionaire Daddy Warbucks. We all need these sorts of comforts. Don't we? Without hope, who are we? *sigh* This could be valid argument, this could be rationalizing. I just don't know. Men do drool over pictures of cars they can never have, some going so far as to build a model of their dream car, despite it being far out of reach. I don't pity them or think less of them as a man. Everyone needs a hobby. What kind of hobby is looking at naked girls, smoking and watching endless british comedy. You'd just end up old, fat, alone, wondering why life passed you by. Complacency, most deadly thing on earth.
I saw Warm Bodies today. It brought up lots of old emotions, feeling dead inside, wondering why I'm still alive. One of the previews before the film was for a movie about a woman cheating on her husband. I got intensely angry at this, saying that anyone who would write such a film deserves to go to hell. I still mean it.

I don't know where I'm going anymore. I feel alone, and it doesn't feel right for that to feel ok. What future, what matters, we've got our bed and board? If you don't mind having to do without things, it's a fine life.

I like to laugh. I got a dinosaur pin that says Ohmehgerd, it's a dinaser. It makes me laugh. Laughter means the world to me. If I didn't laugh I'd cry. Stupid man. I got some new shirts, they're quite nice. I think video has to go, circling back around. I should fast from it for a month, see how that goes. Delete the archive and live on love. Done. No, I don't want to talk about it, I hate this shit already.