#1<=

Exactly. That’s what I’m back to. Oh, you didn’t understand that? It reads “square one, back to”. The objective: find a suitable mate. My previous candidate turned out to be incompatible with me. Or am I incompatible with her? Same difference. Three days ago, we had a very fundamental conversation. It started out with our attitude towards a substance that is now legal in 4 States in the US. It went on to my job, my friends, and our future. She said she didn’t want to insult my best friend, when she said he wasn’t good for me. She proved to me that she knew virtually nothing about me when she said I wss wasting my intellect and talent in my boring job. Well, my job is boring. There’s no doubt about that. But I am not bored easily. My minds eye is constantly engaged in some phantastic scenario or the other. If anything, my job is perfect for me, because I get to phantasize all day and night AND I get paid doing so. That’s as close as it gets to having a cake and eating it. Also, before I started this job, I was a wreck that didn’t realize it was 30ft below the surface. I’m a bit patchy, now, but at least I’m afloat again. After all, life is a work in progress.

But what went wrong? I mean, what went really wrong? Couples fight, right? Why couldn’t we resolve our differences? Was it the manner, in which we fought? I’ve seen couples go through some very tough battles, with dirty tricks, even physical violence, but they stuck together. We didn’t have a nice fight, to be sure, but there wasn’t even any name calling, let alone violence involved.
My theory is that it was a clash of world views. We had avoided it for a long time, but eventually, this fight had to happen. My world is one of function. My best friend has a habit of saying:”If it’s stupid, but works, then it’s not stupid”. That works very well for me. I do think of risks, and how I can avoid or minimize them, but I do what it takes.

Hers, as far as I can tell, is a world of ideals. If there is a risk involved that she is aware of, she won’t do it. This results in a myriad of fears which impair her ability to act. It also means she can’t compromise on many things. Let’s take drugs. There are many risks involved when handling drugs, legal and illegal alike. Addiction, mental impairment, physical impairment, financial problems, and, of course, the possibility of going to jail. Combined with motor vehicles, this gives the potential for murder and mayhem, and jail time, no matter the drugs legal status. These are all dangers that I acknowledge.

I couldn’t be a responsible recreational drug user if I disregarded them. And there are drugs where I don’t believe the benefits are worth the risks. No recreational use of morphine derivatives for me, no thanks! I certainly couldn’t live with anyone who used those kinds of drugs on a regular basis. I’m a bit curious about methamphetamines and magic mushrooms/LSD, but in extremely controlled environments only. I find that I am really moderate in my attitude towards drugs, leaning towards “if you’re not positive that you can handle it, then don’t do it”. Of course, I do have quite a record with alcohol. I never crossed the line of driving under the influence, though I came pretty close once. I lost or destroyed four sets of glasses while drunk, annihilated two cellular phones and I once even had a drunken brawl. I have made a fool of myself countless times. I once fasted for ten (!) days because I had spent all my money on hooch and was too proud to ask my dad for help. I wasted eight years of my life half-way in delirium. I probably lost ten points of IQ due to intoxication. Having a job that tolerates zero intoxication helped me pull the reigns on that habit. What this job also made me realize is that my confidence and self esteem are strongly linked  to my responsibility. When I felt worthless, there was no reason for me to stop drinking. When I had no confidence, alcohol gave me a fleeting sense of that, too. How did I manage to drag myself back on the wagon? Sure, having a supportive family helped. But it really was my best friend, who I stayed with for months after I returned from Russia (where I started this blog). Unlike my parents, who volens nolens carried me through these times and cleaned up my messes, he needed cleaning up. I cleaned his apartment and cooked for him for the right to stay at his place. It didn’t look perfect, and it still smelled pretty badly, but I was doing something that was appreciated. So, when a mutual acquaintance asked me if I wanted to play guard and earn some dosh, I was ready to do so, and one thing led to the next.

Of course, I don’t want to neglect my blogging community here. Having you guys read my stuff, giving me likes, feedback, and thanking me for my silly comments was and continues to be a phenomenal boost to my self esteem. You know, last but definitely not least.

She couldn’t give me that. I was constantly exhausted, dealing with her emotions, her fears, and forcing myself to emote in turn. It’s not that I am unemotional. I just had to learn to keep my emotions in check, often outright disregard them, to prevent terrible things from happening to myself and to others. Before I learned how to quell my anger, which is most problematic, I had multiple temper tantrums every day. Given my physical strength, if I weren’t in complete control most of the time, the consequences would be devastating. Guess who helped me develop that calm? Her name has the initials MJ and she hails from Mexico. At times, my consumption of MJ could have been described as problematic, but that was much easier to get under control than alcohol. Also, constantly dealing with her fears prevented me from fully trusting her. I felt like I had to be strong for the both of us, and if I showed weakness at any instance, we would both fall apart.

Well, today was parade’s end. She literally broke my heart and left me to swallow it down. It was a ginger bread heart that she had given me a few days prior, so yes, I really meant literally. By the way, Parade’s End is a phenomenal television miniseries starring Benedict Cumberbatch.

How can I joke under these circumstances? Laughing is the best medicine. It’s going to hurt. Badly. But as long as I can laugh, I will always have the last laugh.

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