bankrupt

I thought I would type this out in an email because I don't know how to talk to anyone about it without screaming. Today, what God is asking me, is why God and I don't have a closer relationship. Let me start from the beginning, it will make more sense. Three years ago my wife walked out on me, and at that point I realized I was too damaged to settle down again right away, and I started playing around with sex. I had nothing else, at the time I often said she got God in the divorce, I'm still reasonably convinced that's pretty close to the truth. But moving on. I decided to have lots of guilt free no commitment sex..... and porn..... years go by, I start drawing closer to God. Somewhere along the way I realized that part of the reason my marriage fell apart is that one of the little known riders in christian marriage is that when you marry someone she in essence owns your sexuality. She not only gets to overhaul the house, your career, and anything else she wants, she also gets to decide how your sex drive works. The problem being that she is a woman and has never been a man. ANYWAY, the upshot of divorce is that you get your life back to make your own choices. 
Now, I grew up in the church, I've been trying to hash out my sexual desires with the fact that the church thinks I shouldn't have any for a decade now. I've been to addiction recovery, I've prayed, I've been to more alter calls than most people with actual illnesses. Yet for some reason God has yet to remove my flaw of having a sexuality and that being part of my identity (well except for when depression took it away for awhile).......... Which leads to tonight.

I have been agonizing with God, trying to understand what I'm doing wrong, trying to understand why he doesn't express any love for me. The last two weeks I have worshiped and drawn closer to him than ever, yet I have never been more financially strained and emotionally I am ready to die. I hate my life, I hate that God has nothing to do with it. I just want him to do what he promised to do, yet tonight he decided to trigger me instead. I went to 3D tonight (I've been going to church in one way or another twice a week lately, sometimes more), and walking up something felt not good. I felt out of place. All through the songs, which are all about how much God loves me, and I worship, I come in agreement because I've been trying to worship him through this hateful storm. But I don't feel loved. I feel hated, I feel like I don't belong and more and more, I feel that I want to die. I feel completely abandoned, but I know that God wants me to stay strong, so I keep worshiping. 

Then as the worship dies down, and this lady comes on stage and starts talking about when she and her husband were dating how they stayed pure. That's a trigger, I'm frankly pretty sick and tired of hearing about how happy married people are. I haven't found anyone that loves me, and I may never be able to. You don't go up to someone who can't walk and start talking about all the skiing and jumping they should be doing. Jerks. But I know it's not on purpose, and I try to get past this, then I see, this is a directed assault. I've been yelled at a lot in my life, this is something new being directly attacked by God. She goes on about not being weak, not giving in to temptation. But I don't hear her talking, I hear how God doesn't want me to have the one remaining joy in my life. I can't afford good food, and women are as I said earlier a bit beyond me, my job is hard, nothing satisfies me and without anything to relieve my stress I start to spiral into a suicidal melt down. But the attack continues. Finally, after 14 minutes of this attack, I say fine, whatever you want God. I've given you everything in my life, stepped out in faith in every way possible, and now you want to take away sex. Great. Because he knows that if he doesn't show up now, I'm going to get so hopeless and dead inside that I'm going to die. I'm so glad that him and I finally reached the point where he gave me the ammunition I need to die. I figure he's calling me home soon, because now that I've given every last bit of myself, I have nothing but him to lean on. And if I've learned one thing so far, it's that he is not there when I need him. He has not provided. So I continue to give to him, he continues to take, and the only light I see is through the grave at this point. I could have coped for year if only...... but he's got to have his rules. He wants more, I give it. With a thankful heart. I'm thankful he told me what I can do to please him. I'm thankful he's pleased because I'm bankrupt and dead. I'm thankful that he finally answered one of my desires, which is that someone else would do something to me so intense that if it didn't work out I could just clock out of this life. I'm thankful knowing he has everything of mine. I'm thankful that now I cannot ever tell anyone to follow him, because following him has become a nosedive into the grave. I'm praising him for every messed up horrible thing that he's let happen to me this past month. I know that he's either going to redeem it here or I'll get my reward after I reach the end of my rope and end this. I don't know that there is anything anyone can do to help me, aside from God, and we'll just have to wait and see what he decides to do now.

Mixed signals

I need this for meditation, and I need to share this. This past week has been quite a journey for me. From losing myself to despair as another relationship collapsed in front of me, as well as my first vacation option in years. So, I did the only thing I could, in that I have committed not to die by my own hand, I turned to God. I know I've been bitter on here about him, and I want to correct the myth that I don't desire him or a closer relationship with him. This time in my life, while lacking in many things, I have grown closer to God than I have ever been. It's really been beautiful, for the first time since I was 15 I'm finally starting to get it.
I'm not wanting to talk about my past, God's grace means we can move past that. I want to talk about the present, and the last two days. Yesterday I had enough of it and I started really working. I went and I did TONS of errands I had been putting off. And I went to the gym, and then I went to church. I finally realized I can survive this, no matter how long it last, even if this is the rest of my life I can handle that. I realized, or thought I realized ANYWAY, that home is where the heart is, and right now my home is God and Me.  It's no crime to love yourself, but you have to be honest to yourself the way you would be to your spouse, because no one is going to correct you when you go wrong if you don't. This is an important concept of single living that no one ever talks about. So I came to the place where I could be... well content anyway staying here in this city that does not make me happy, around people entirely unlike me, and that I would not settle down. Oh MY GOSH! I just got an important scriptural tie in. I'm reading genesis right now, to try and  read through the bible, and I just read about Abraham sending a servant out to get Isaac a wife. This is SO cool because I had no idea why any of this mattered until just now. Abraham told his servant not to get his son a wife from the locals, because they were not right for his son. He said to go to his home and retrieve a woman from there. Flesh of my flesh, but in a modern sense this is different. I know I am not to marry a relative, that would be...... impractical let's say. BUT, I should not marry that which is not my flesh. I need to stop forcing incompatibility to work. THAT is why my marriage didn't work. I married a local. These people around me are the philistines of my world, and I do not have to marry into their number!
So, basicly what I'm explaining, apart from that outburst, is that I felt I was being affirmed that this place would allow me to survive. I saw that through working with local churches I could be part of a community that could love and accept me. So I thought the message was to be here for a few more years, maybe it still is (stomach knots up).

But then a new day dawned and today was here. Messages have been coming in ALL day about how he hasn't forgotten me, I have a destiny, he will provide, all that lovely charismatic stuff. Which says to me, be ready to move. Lord how can I be a blessing locally, invest and dig in here and at the same time be ready to leave? Which is it? I did some reading on this and it says it's natural to want to stay with the familiar, but the new is better. So I continue to hold my ground on my stance, which is, when he's ready to move, at the SOONEST moment he is ready, I will go. I expect an answer REALLY soon, either stay or go. If I stay I plan on getting my RN and investing in a simple life of bachelorhood, with all the vices and freedoms that come with that. If he moves, no that's wrong actually, When he moves (because he will move, eventually) I will move with him into the new season of my life. With my whole heart. No looking back. For now, I'm going to try to fast from certain sexual desires............ I don't know how successful I'm going to be........ Lord give me strength, give me courage, give me wisdom, show me your will and be my guiding light. Amen.

Things I won't say on facebook or to the suicide lifeline people

So it's been awhile since I got on here to talk to this thing, and right now I'm in a serious depressive episode. I really don't want to spend a paragraph setting things up, we're here, let's just unpack as we go.
I am crucially unhappy with my existence at this point. Yes not at my life, at my existence. There is an important difference between the two

Robots and other monsters

So, for decades we have been overwhelmed with movie imagery of robots or aliens without empathy for the human experience coming down and destroying our way of life. So we keep an eye out for aliens(with SETI) and we make sure our robots are safe. What we entirely miss is that we have already made the greatest monster ever to grace this earth. It's called the modern Corporation. It's primary goal is to accumulate money. It does not care for whom it hurts in the process, because investors didn't make that part of the measure of success. If a corporation LITERALLY works people to death, or kills people, the worst that can happen to it is that it ceases to be. All the people that designed survive to design corporations that can more effectively get away with using whatever tactics they please to rape pillage and plunder our economy. I love that they then hide behind "we're job creators" in that when they have to they pay someone way less than they are worth while still making money hand over fist. They are job creators the same way plantation owners prior to the civil war were. They give you barely enough to live and call it a job. They verbally abuse you and call it management. They fire people and make you do their job because to be honest, you're better off not working, health wise, than you are working for these people. Welcome to America folks, land of screwing the little guy.

haunted

I'm not writing because I want to. It's important to lead into this by saying that I am only doing this due to subconscious demands that I handle these issues. The last two nights I have had dreams about my ex wife. The first two (night one the only dream I had, and the dream that came first night two) was about me reconciling with her. Let me summarize that one, do the analysis then we can go on to the second one.

I can't remember specifics from the dream on night one, so last nights will have to do. I dreamed that she came back to me. She took the initiative and contacted me and it turns out her life had been falling apart. She  said her marriage had fallen apart.... that sort of thing. She never said she still loved me. But I was made to break up with my girlfriend despite me not liking the idea of hurting her. In the dream however for some reason I wanted to be with her. I'm baffled that I didn't say anything about the past being the past. I seriously doubt I would remarry her if such a thing actually happened.

It's one part wish fulfillment  that's easy. For a long time I have wanted her to suffer for what she did to me, that was obvious. Another thing is that I wanted my ego stroked that if something like that happened she would come back, which is not the case. She doesn't still love me. I've checked. Granted a woman's heart is full of secrets and lies but at least on the surface, there is no love there for me. Which came up in the dream. Which brings us to the darker part of this dream analysis. There are issues of ownership. She comes back into my life and essentially demands that I do what she says, and I do? It's as if we are still married, and we aren't. She has no rights in respect to me. I admit that there is some part of me that would be happy for the romantic attention from her. A part of me will always love her, even though I doubt that part will ever be called into active duty again.

the second dream has me having sex with my ex wife. This happened once after me seeing the getting back together dream for the second time I rolled over, went back to sleep and dreamed of what comes next. I wanted to dream something different, something better. Instead I dreamed about making love to the ex wife. I got her pregnant. Then we had sex again. It was so intense it upset the cat, though I have no cat. I have no idea what the cat means. Again my interpretation is that I am making my wishes come true. Another thing I think is that I did what she wanted, broke up with my girl, and as a result she rewarded me with sex.

I talked with my friends about this today, and the most helpful thing they said is that I am wishing for what I had when I had her, stability and comfort. That makes sense.

I'm redoubling my efforts on prayer, that a solution to my situation be at hand. And I am waiting on the answer. While I wait, I will keep trying and writing of my success and challenges here. Stay tuned.

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.

3 am musings from 11-19

NOTE: This is something I wrote on an overnight in the wee morning hours of 11-19, I hope this spirit of inspiration continues and I can record more of my life over the next few weeks.

Introspection in retrospect after a 3 AM viewing of Annie Hall

I was named after Annie Hall you know. Not directly silly, but after a running joke in the movie. The running joke is that Woody Allen's character and his sort of best friend through the movie keep having conversations and instead of using their character's names they both refer to the other as Max. Of course I didn't find this out until my middle teens, I want to say 16 but it might have been earlier. After I had found out about sex but before I was having it my dad showed me the movie. Up until this point I had been under the impression I was named after my granddad who was Samuel Max but everyone called him Max. They still do. Sometimes I wonder if my mother is in on the joke that we tell everyone that I am named after my highly successful and admirable granddad, but in fact I am named after a neurotic woody allen character. I think that's what set up the whole dynamic of my life. On the outside sure I'm successful and happy, but inside I worry and I cover up my insecurities and I know all about my imperfections.

I realized here it is 4 AM towards the end of November and I haven't done any quality introspection since, I don't know, maybe September but more likely since July. It's been a bad year for my creativity. I started out so strong with short stories.... no wait that was two years ago. Where was I a year ago? Aha, I haven't been really creative since I went back to school. This years “strong” start was trying to make it work with Nikki..... that's a road I don't want to go down right now. At the moment I'm trying to live in a regret free zone with Nikki.... she's expecting her third child with a third man and it's not me and I'm glad..... maybe a part of me wishes it was me but NOW?! Certainly not. I could not approach fatherhood appropriately right now. I mean I feel castrated at school, I won't be returning in the spring and I feel empty about so much....... Being a father to me always meant having things figured out.

I feel completely aimless about the road ahead. Sometimes rather bleak if you want the truth. Frankly I don't think it would be a horrible tragedy if this was the end. But I'm supposed to be trying to find more gray area in my life. I appear to suffer from cognitive dissonance according to my therapist I see things in black and white and I do, I do do that. So what do I do about it? I asked him this, he thinks me being aware of it and of my issues with lack of control and ambiguity will help me deal with them. So if this isn't the end, and life is not wonderful...... it just is. I hate that there is not an adequate word for describing the reality in which something is not a success and it is not a failure. For something that exists in total opposition to definition by either category. My life being the prime example of this frustrating linguistic conundrum. The future is neither a good thing or a bad thing. It exists in an ambiguous state in relation to the rest of reality. While many things are concrete and definable my life utterly defies such plebeian things such as the English language. I'm certain that the Germans or perhaps the Greeks would have had a word for this state. Probably the french as well, if only for the purposes of Camus.

My therapist was talking with me about the perfect woman, we had just defined one of my problems that I am a perfectionist. Oh well. Moving on we discussed my perfect woman. Of course in one of the rare moments of disharmony with my therapist I really wanted to discuss my attempts to control the situation and why they had not worked and he wanted to discuss how my obsession with power and control involuntarily led me to choose substandard women.... well women with issues we can't really define substandard women without saying that there is a standard that women should be held to and what does that say about me? Women are in the end not a commodity no matter how much I treat them like one. You cannot quality sort women, they in general defy it and again it requires broader knowledge than I am privy to. I suppose the natural standard I want to hold women to is the standard of my mother, well how Freudian is that?

In the end I am drawn to women who are lacking in compassion but with respectable intellectual capacity. Often times it just comes down to who will give me what I desire: at the moment this manifests as a decent amount of compassion and the warmth of occasional physical contact without the required full honesty of intimacy. I am intimately incapable and have been for a few months. But that comes back around to my main point; I don't feel ready for the whole dance anymore. I settle for remaining able to have my legs under me. I desire more, I really do, I think that I should be able to do more in the way of love. I want romance and sparks, and well, to quote Gene Wilder “I want everything I've ever seen in the movies!”

I remain ever pragmatic about the whole problem. For one though I have faith that God will provide, that doesn't mean what he provides will always meet my definition of good or that he can reverse the damage that sin has done on my mortal body. Yes I know I am young and young people bounce back but at the moment I don't feel so young. I feel very tired of pushing forward through the endless murk that is this existence. I feel that I am alone though I am told I am loved I await evidence of such. At the moment I cannot even afford Christmas presents for my family. *sigh*

the fantasies of man outreach his biology

Just something that struck me while I was reading Maslow's thoughts on pornography. Pornography is fantasy, more often than not male fantasy. What he said is that it's a lie, but not a harmful one if you KNOW it's a lie. Valuable words there. He said these are but fantasies, which is a critique and praise. But most importantly they are unrealistic fantasies. Personally I enjoy word fantasies, ones I create in my mind the images for. I just read some today. Yet that doesn't make my love for the arms of a real woman fail. Sometimes it makes the longing more acute. Sometimes it lessens it. However it is primarily an experience between me and my own head. And such is my love of myself sometimes that I must daydream fantastic adventures for me to go on. I know I won't go in the end. Being a good man and responsible are too important.
Another thing he said is music is utopia. My current favorite song is called Captain Lou, going as follows:
"Some say that I'm not wrapped too tight
captain lou captain lou captain lou
But when I'm on the scene everything's alright
captain lou captain lou albano"

I just love the idea. This song is my private utopia, and here is why, and then I'll tell you another story of my utopia. Some people don't like me, or might speak words against me, and it's hard being an intelligent realist and both knowing that and trying to transcend that. But people want me around. I can imagine them calling my name. Because when I'm around, for them, life gets better. That's what  I want to believe. Whether it's true or not is another thing entirely. But I say as Vonnegut said before me that the truth is a dangerous thing. Sometimes too much of it could rip you apart. Well, could rip me apart. I couldn't stand for years to realize why my wife left me, why she did what she did. Now I understand. I wouldn't go back and tell myself the answer though, not after it was too late to change. I had hurt too much.

Another utopia was inspired by her. She called me proud and vain when she left me. I am. So is all man, but I know mine so I can mock it, and in mocking it I find vision of what men want to be: You're so vain.

You walked into the party
like you were walking onto a yacht
your hat strategically tipped below one eye
your scarf it was apricot
you had one eye in the mirror as you watched yourself gavot
and all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner

You're so vain. You probably think this song is about you.

This is the essence of man, both in his flower and in his shame. It is shameful to be so insecure as to need to put on a display for others. But it is beautiful to love yourself so decadently that everyone wishes to be in your shoes. I found this song, and I adopted it as one of my ego banner songs because this song is about me. Not LITERALLY, but about a man like me. I want to be that man, we all do sometimes.

But one of the verses is so brutally honest it helps me gut check myself:

You said that we made such a pretty pair
and that you would never leave
but you gave away the things you love
and one of them was me
I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee
clouds in my coffee

I loved her, I made such promises to her. To more people than I'm proud to admit. But in the end I gave away the things I loved. One of them was Lindsay. One of them was Nikki. They had dreams but in the end it mattered to me more who they were to ME. Anyway the point is that if they really mattered to me maybe they would have made different decisions. Or maybe not.
I'm going to go into another utopia now:
Minecraft.

update 8-28

Journal 8-28

So I'm feeling very frustrated and this is all I have to work with, typing up a future blog entry that I may never publish.

Last night I dreamed again.... about Nikki. In my dream my dad and she were conversing about my attraction to her. He talked about my devotion.... etc etc. And how james will never love her like I would, or be a good father like I might. And she decided to leave him for me. SO we started trying to be intimate. It was wonderful. Of course I felt guilt, something felt wrong that by the force of my will I had received what I wanted so bad at the expense of her relationship with him. Which is why I'm trying not to sabotage it. If she leaves him, and chooses me, it should be her idea. I tried to kiss her and it all fell apart.
I put on my music forget the day
think of a girl that I used to know,
I close my eyes and I drift away

(guitar riff)
It's more than a feeling
more than a feeling
when I hear that old song once again
I've been believing, more than a feeling
see Mary Ann walk away
I see that Mary Ann walking away

Check bounced, now I'm short over 160 dollars because of the bank and the insurance agency, now that's not counting the money I pray is sitting in my drawer.

Anyway got through first two classes. I need to find a way to access the net on campus.... will work on that in about two hours.
Anyway, it's still eating at me about dreaming about Nikki, being as how I can't have her. In my dream she realized that I was the better choice... because of Dad. And she resented it.... so I read anyway hence the failed kiss. She's talking about moving out if she loses her job.... I'm trying to be very apathetic about it. After all, if she does I can rent to one person and make more money, And have better parking. But I'd miss her.... a bit. Lately she's been less pleasant, she promises things and doesn't do them. It's a problem of how affection and love works. People can hurt you, but then again you can forget. I've started to come around to the idea that I care/cared for my ex wife. Yes, I loved her. Not just in the traditional sense that I affectionately enjoyed her attentions (that was the first step to have to admit). Over time I have discovered that I also miss her touch, her eyes, how it felt to come home to her, the security of her love and her being there. Now of course I realize the security was an illusion.

In other news I apparently talked my way through a block with a witty new girl. No more details for now, I've learned my lesson.

Get this guys: I get it

So I just had an amazing epiphany of why my previous relationships, particularly my marriage failed. As some of you might know this has been the holy grail of understandings for two years already. This is like cracking the mystery of why you can't become attractive to anyone you are attracted to, despite stories and advertising to the contrary. This is big big stuff. A guy recognizing how wrong he was even though no one would damn tell him is a blessed miracle. So I was taking apart the marriage bit by bit for what must be the 77th time when I started to look at it a different way. My previous theories often centered on that she had fooled herself into marrying me based on an abstinence obsessed christian subculture. Which I took some responsibility for due to my being the overcharged libido carrier in fault for the crime in question. So when it failed it must have been my fault for building a marriage on lies that your first partner in bed will be the one you know and understand best. I built a marriage on the idea that two people with similar goals and high libido would come out fine. I was wrong of course. Now, not just in that I once thought the marriage would last, also I am deeply deeply wrong in why she stopped loving me. She stopped loving me because I never loved her the way she needed. I loved her the best I could. Honestly it's like throwing in a bunch of metric tools with non metric hardware. They can try, but all they can ever be is on different machines. I was always daydreaming about the sex we might have one day if we ever get up to it. Then we'd get up to it and it would always disappoint. Is it any wonder I had problems with literary porn. Fantasies fueled my life. I lived dreaming to live. I was so deeply invested in being right about everything, about things just having to be so, about missing the most important thing I ever missed: Maybe she did love me as deeply as she said. It's possible, I'm not an unattractive man. Maybe she just wanted my love. No need to think about the future when you are really in love. The future is windowdressing. The now is precious because you are with the one you love. If you don't love them you are always looking away. I was always looking away. I didn't love her like I should. I could never accept the simplicity of her romance. It was a homecooked meal, a new outfit, holding me when I got home from work. Working with me, playing with me. My best friend. I loved her, but not enough. Love is never enough, is the title of a book on my shelf on couple's psychology. Good communication it says is the core of any relationship. I never felt welcome to have feelings around her. I felt like she was trying to crush us into becoming her parents. And because I feared it, it tried to become so. Then she was afraid we'd turn into my parents, and she feared it and it nearly became so. Actually it did become so. Only she didn't love me like my mom loves my dad. That's what makes mom a lady, she has the class to see past the faults and love him through it all. If Lindsay had been so, I would have loved her forever, imagine it. Never starting smoking. Never being a playboy sort. No blond hair. No crazy eyeglasses. No big slush fund..... actually that would still exist if we both could work. No new car for YOU this time.

someday I'll find her....... maybe in the afterlife, but she's  out there....
I don't know how to get over....Nicki....Sarah. I loved Sarah but the anxiety.... the anxiety..... Going back to her has more free radicals in the experiment than an untested nuclear blast. It's too dangerous and frankly I both love her to much to risk doing that to her, and love me too much to do it to me. And I don't love her or need her in my life so much that makes such risk worthwhile. It was shallow love.

People like us
who will answer the telephone
people like us
we don't need freedom
We don't want justice
we just want someone to love
What good is freedom?
God laughs at people like us
I see it coming, like thunder falling down from above.

Times are hard for people like us.

muddily do, muddily do, bodily bust, bodily bust

We do, doodley do, doodley do, doodely do,
What we must, muddily must, muddily must, muddily must;
Muddily do, muddily do, muddily do, muddily do,
Until we bust, bodily bust, bodily bust, bodily bust.
(Kurt Vonnegut)

I feel as if I have failed to uphold my duty to preserve this record of my ongoing quest for meaning and hope in this post divorce wasteland. So, first, I'm sorry about all that. Second, I'm going to try and keep up with it more.

So where to begin?
Well Sarah and I broke up.... I broke up with Sarah........... Over a month ago she decided she was too busy to see me, so out she went. You might be under the impression I can only be so glib because of my distance from the problem, but no. See, in my heart we broke up when she flat out refused to accept my best friend or compromise. And it looked like Shannon part 2, and no thanks, that was no fun the first time.
Somewhere in the middle of that relationship Nikki decided to tell me she had feelings for me. So I couldn't just end the relationship with sarah and by the time it did end of it's own accord Nikki had moved on. Which comes to the primary point of conflict in my relationship life: Nikki. She loves someone else.... again. I FUCKING HATE THIS. I know........ I cuss because I cannot eloquently express my distaste for the situation I am currently in. It is without a doubt beyond compare with any other disappointment in Nikki that I have had in the past. In the past when she was over the moon for some guy, well that guy was the father of her child and I could not claim a better footing. But this guy just came out of the blue while I was trying to resolve my personal matters. And she prefers him........................................... I'm just getting more angry here.

They aren't together now....

Waiting for the right moment, or to be more accurate wondering if the right moment will ever arrive. I feel like I'm sitting watching my life go by. Of course if I was in a relationship with anyone other than my soul mate the difference is utterly moot except in the bragging rights of having more sex..... That's uncomfortably honest and close to home, but this is processing. Do I think that Nikki is my one unique soul mate? I was going to say no out of hand.... but, yet again being honest with my heart I do not know. She may be. Life is surprising. If she loved me..... loved me..... I would say she was. Of course I love her..... but it is not in my love to ask what she has not offered. Right now I certainly don't see anything better. Granted, that's horrible reasoning for love. To be honest I'm unsure whether I could be happier with anyone else...... and it bothers my competitive little heart not having that which I wish to have. She promised we would have another chance...... now it comes down to my trust of her. And of God......... I don't talk about him much anymore.

A brief reprieve into my career I have gained employment in my field. I work in a mental hospital for children....... For children being the shocking part, we all knew I belonged in a mental hospital. It's actually quite fulfilling. I get to be the father I've always been well suited to be to 15 boys, between 14 and 17, there might be a few younger. Sometimes I end up on the younger wards or working with little girls, which needless to say is not my gift. But I seem to have taken to the job as well as can be hoped, if not better.

And I might be getting a new renter.

I wish I could have fulfilling dreams about the woman I love. I wish she would look at me and see what I see when I look at her..... is it too much to wish that? Is it too much to long to be longed for back? To want to torture her with pleasure and happiness? It's a rare thing that I want to let my will be bent to meet another's but in her I find that already my will is bent to hers, and I find her in my life comfortable.... and I know that as long as she is in it I cannot honestly chase any other relationships...... though I may still try....... I miss sex.... even my enjoyment of pornography is on the decline. It is as if my heart is drying and freezing, going into hibernation. Yet.... nothing... I long for it to beat..... I long for meaningful human contact. Yet that is desperate and wrong, so I must teach myself not to feel. Because the one I want doesn't want me, and there is not currently a better option to fall back on.


 The ex is happy, I'm filling the paperwork she wants filed.

The vocal minority

I'm coming down to realize the reasons I smoke are more complex than I have previously discussed. Yes, the flavor is good and I do enjoy it. But a larger reason, larger especially now that I realize it is this; smoking tobacco puts a man at odds with society for choices that HE has made. Now I used to be one of those clean living types, liberal and healthy and all that bull.  The liberal agenda is supposed to be to defend the little guy, the put upon and those who either cannot or will not speak for themselves. Our liberal friends, who claim to be on our side never seem to get around to voicing what the minority has to say. Now the conservatives are worse, but not by much. I'm pro-smoking. I'm proud to say that I love the taste of a good cigar. I'd gladly give anyone I like a good cigar, and sit down and enjoy the day, which is what I'm doing at this very moment.

What really gets to me is the blatant hypocracy of the non smoking world. Not that smokers are any more honest, but most are a bit more realistic to realize that first of all, life is dangerous, and second we aren't getting the whole story. There is a witch hunt against smokers in this country. And yet many continue to smoke. They must have good reasons. I know I do. We as smokers are sick of being lumped together with everyone that smokes.

Here is how it works, and this applies to a large amount of labels. What someone does for a hobby does not make them homicidal, abusive, or a destructive member of society. Why do more of these sorts of people smoke? Because when you stop caring what others think enough to be a detriment to society you might as well smoke, and do anything else you might wish to do. You know that when you get caught they're just going to kill you or make your life hell anyway. Why not smoke?
A person, let's call him Dave, could be a real piece of work. He could cheat on his wife, beat her and the kids when he gets home, eventually devolve into bank robbery and working for the mob. He might have to start pulling off hits, etc etc.
Anyway, Dave has made some personal choices in his life. I'll tell you a couple. He drives a red ford truck for example. Now that is a personal choice. He likes his truck. However him liking it doesn't make him a bad person. Would you start attacking everyone who drives a Ford, or a truck, that they don't have your best interests at heart? No. Do you know why? Because Ford has worked hard to create a positive image in the mind of america. They are good trucks, and that doesn't change a thing. Now when Dave is driving around in his big old ford truck he likes to go through the drive through of McDonald's. He doesn't order off the healthy menu. He eats a greasy burger and fries. He's not taking very good care of himself is he? Does that mean we should insult him? Maybe make burger and fries very highly taxed and hard to get. That would show him for not taking good enough care of himself. You realize that is just plain silly. I hope you do.
Now he likes to pick up a case of Bud Light on the way home so he can have a drink while he watches his shows and his wife tries to avoid him so she won't get hit. He'll probably get drunk. And he'll die younger because he overdrinks and blacks out every night. And society DOES see that evil. Yet we don't say everyone who has a bud light at a bar, or buys bud light is evil. We understand he is an alcoholic. He needs treatment and rehab, and he might have to go to jail. Because of his inability to control himself. Not the alcohol. Dave, like many men, likes a smoke while he's drinking.
Which brings me around to my point. Dave is a bad man. No one who works at the tobacco shop made him that. No one in big tobacco is guilty of even ONE crime against Dave. Dave is going to die young because he's reckless in general. He's just as likely to drive that Ford into the river, or drink himself to death as to die of lung cancer. Actually it's more likely his liver will fail first. Society has to find other ways to cope with people like that other than punishing good contributing citizens with overtaxation and discrimination. There are many jobs that discriminate against smokers. The smoking area is almost always dirty and not relaxing. And why not? Smokers must deserve it for making a life choice like that, right?
Smokers are people, whether anyone wants to admit or not. And there is nothing wrong with tobacco, except for the smell, and that's something all of us, smokers and non smokers, have to deal with.

letter to my girl

Hey baby,
      I'm just sitting here, dealing with anxiety caused by this medicine, missing you. I feel so sick to my stomach from this it isn't even funny. Maybe because normally when I feel this sick it's because I feel horrible about something that I'm worried so much about every little thing. I keep thinking that I must be feeling guilty about something. What do I have to feel guilty about? My past is the first thing that pops into my head. I think I really just need to type out this problem and I'll feel better. Hence the drafting of this letter. I feel guilty about being with a man, that I was with a man right before we met. Something in my brain wants to make more of it than I wanted to, so I'm using some logic on this. First of all, and mind you I'm trying very hard not to rationalize, I wasn't with you. I didn't know you were coming. I didn't become aware of you until after that happened. That's a calming thought. Second, my past is my past, you've accepted that and I need to. I feel guilty about being diagnosed with a disease (since this version is for my blog I'll just say it's an STD, not AIDS). It's like it's all my fault. I mean it IS. And aren't I already paying the consequences? What am I worried about? You know the score on my past. You know the risks. You love me regardless..... I'm scared of losing your love. You love me so well, but sometimes you get so mad at me, like I'm not the man you pictured yourself with. That's why I try to be very real about who I am. If I lose you at this point because of who I am, or because of my past I can't control that. No amount of talking will undo everything I have done. Only God can provide the forgiveness I seek, not you. I need to pray..... break for a moment, talk amongst yourselves.


to be continued

aha, a mystery

I think perhaps I finally am growing to understand the nature of love. Having met the woman I hope to grow old with, I must unravel the mystery of how to make her feel perfectly loved. Yes I have the words, I have the tools in that way, but what are her buttons?
I suppose it doesn't seem like a big thing but it is. I have been puzzling all day on quite a puzzle. In a documentary, well a TED talk, and they said the brain has three attachments. The sexual, the romantic and the long term. Now according to the good doctor they can be separate people. My desire is that they not. Because if they are, then that leads logically to cheating and I won't stand for it. So, for now, where I'm at anyway, I need to find reasons to be utterly facinated by her. I'm horribly attracted to her, but things are rather..... vanilla. Not that they aren't as wonderful as I could ever have hoped that vanilla would be. But I am... shall we say, intrigued by the prospect of trying to discover how to stimulate her, make her lose control, make her lose herself in our passion. It's a wonderful dream, a challenging quest and it will take everything I have and a bit of luck to spare to get there. But she does love me, and I can only hope she desires to drive me as wild as I want to drive her.