I know 33 ain't old but...
It's not-young-enough to feel like the clock is ticking on that.
I thought I was gonna grow old with her, I guess, I guess that's why I feel old.
But I ain't curling up and dying. I've actually got a job interview tomorrow, just an assistant at a local library thing but it is a library attached to a museum that is a centre of the local arts so, like, it could be good, not just for some bread but also to make contacts.
And yeah. A lot of the energy in my life has been devoted to helping her with her bi-polarity and, like, maybe I'll be a better and more successful man being able to focus on myself.
But right now, man, I just loved her so much, you know.
It's hard to not have that. The love was worth being a failure for.
But she did fuck me over and my family over with the way she left basically Baltimore Colts style and I'm not gonna take her back the day she does try crawling back.
But. You know. That'll hurt fuck*ng bucketloads.
Y'know. I would be drinking heavily, too, but I got to hold shit together for that job interview tomorrow which should be... interesting.
Job interview, two days after a fuck*ng bad out-of-nowhere getting left.
That'll be, ah, well, if I can handle that, maybe I'm a better dude than I give myself credit for usually.
I wanted to save her, I guess. I wanted to save her so bad.