We were in a library together, it was post-breakup, and for whatever reason or another, we were at the checkout counter and I could smell her, see the back of her neck, and she was bumping into me.
The tension, I tell you, was real. I wanted to lean in and kiss her, hold her.. but, I felt restrained too. As if I didn't want to breach that invisible wall between us.
Anyways, my phone wouldn't allow me to hit snooze a fourth time, so I had to tap out.
An interesting meeting occurred last night, while I was in the smoke pit.
Some guy that I've never seen before, started talking with me, and I was quite surprised by the conversation.
A few days earlier, I made mention about the octopus story, and how guys at work rarely speak of their partners in positive terms, so.. consider me surprised when this fellow, who was an older guy, possibly late 60s or early 70s, started telling me about a few things.
First off, it started with a conversation about pizza. My favorite food. He recommended I try "I Dream of Pizza" in Sherwood Park. "The crust.. is just STUPID!" and then he segues into talking about calamari, which then brought up the word "octopus" and how off the coast of a Spanish island (Mallorca) they have these amazing tasting octopuses. Not that I cared about eating them, but I thought it was interesting to hear someone use the word octopus, as I haven't heard it used in conversation in a long, long time. He could have said squid, but he didn't.
So far, a pizza place recommendation and then saying the word octopus. Those two things got my attention.
Next up, he started telling me about his wife. She's Portuguese and 12 years younger than he is.
"If you're single, marry a Portuguese woman." he tells me. And then goes on about how she keeps the house clean, and how there's always something on the stove, and how much of a hard worker she is and how she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met.
It was such a sweet, touching story. I had to ask how they met, and he met her while working at the Edmonton Inn, and that when his mom passed away and he had to quit the job; she called him up and they went out on a date. They've been married now for 28 years.
Pizza, octopus, and a suggestion that I pursue a Portuguese lady for myself. Hopefully one that is 12 years younger, which means she would be 26. Prime child-bearing age.
It's possible, I realized. If this gentleman can find happiness with a Portuguese woman 12 years his junior; so can I.
Heh. I know how gullible that sounds. But still, I was given hope.
Little coincidences...
Closed two of the three profiles I have.
Eharmony.
Couldn't leave OkCupid without screenshotting a few of the messages Gina and I exchanged on there. I wish I could have selected them all and copied them; but the app wouldn't allow me to do that.
(sighs) Those messages.. she's still a sweetheart. I still .. wish things could have been different.
But, I really realize now that the breakup had to happen. I've said this twice before, and I'll say it again. It had to. It was the most natural and inevitable way of it all playing out. I wasn't ready for Gina, and I wasn't sure how to act around her. I wasn't sure if I could trust her. And I endured years of bad relationships and false hopes. I couldn't endure it again. I was too scared of being broken up with.
Again.
So.. there was no way for me to have suddenly shifted gears or learned what I have learned, had she not broken up with me. My home would probably still be messy. My porch might not have been painted. I wouldn't have decorated it like I did. I wouldn't have lost twenty pounds. I wouldn't have this renewal of faith in there being good people out there. There's a lot of positive changes that came from my being broken up with. And I can't be regretting any of them. I regret that I couldn't be myself with her, but I don't regret my conduct. My attitude and outlook at the time, was exactly as expected. In order for me to evolve; I needed to be broken up with.
So, no regrets. No being depressed about it. Just grateful. Hopeful.
And.. (sighs) work is beating the hell out of me. It's one thing to be sick and having to work all night, but it's another to have to forfeit my free time and commit myself fully to a job that I don't actually want to do.
For me, I don't find joy in insulating. I find it in people. Being with them. Talking with them. Insulating is just.. a way to pass the time, I guess.
And.. It's Saturday, overtime is optional.. and, I'm really.. contemplating staying home. I don't want to, and I shouldn't.. but...
(sighs) ..
(SIGHS)
I have no time. I need to do laundry. I'd like to take my empty bottles to the depot. I want to clean the bathrooms. Shovel my driveway. Lay in bed for a long nap. Write. Hang out with Gyngie. Visit my mom. Listen to a three hour long podcast. Clean my car. Pay off my speeding ticket. Organize/clean the office upstairs. Do some grocery shopping. Zone out with headphones on and lasers going.
But I have no time. It's been eat, sleep, wake up, work. And rinse/repeat.
(sighs)
I should suck it up, but at the same time.. I don't want to. I don't have anyone depending on me.
A fellow at work asked me if I was married or if I have kids, and when I told him no, he replied with,
"You're living in paradise!"
And.. I couldn't agree with that. I understood his point of view, but this is not paradise to me. Having to work at a job I don't enjoy, making money I don't really get to keep (going towards my debt), and.. it's not fun coming home to a quiet and lonely home. Having no one to kiss good morning to, or to snuggle up in bed with.
No one to do my grocery shopping or laundry while I work six days a week, 10 and 12 hours a shift.
No one to look after the dog I've always wanted to have. Or my kids.
Or kid.
(sighs)
This is not paradise.
This is paradise misplaced.
Also,
Winter has arrived.
All I need is a Direwolf.
