Not smoking has created other voids in my life. Consider that I smoked quick (all my friends can attest I did it faster than them) and spent an average of 7 minutes on my fancy, native american cigarettes. I was doing a little under a pack a day, so let’s say 18 cigarettes x 7 minutes = 126 minutes. A fucking day! Stories you’re familiar with that run approximately 126 minutes are Hitchcock’s Vertigo, Do the Right Thing, Motherfucking Star Wars, and the Goddamn Empire Strikes back, all ~126 minutes. Imagine the stories and bullshit you can come up with during that time every day. If you’re a depressive person that loves being creative then this 2+ hours every day really begins to manifest itself into some serious bullshit.

I chose to “leap” all day today. Fuck it. Just give into some impulse if it doesn’t have any long-lasting harmful implication — at least not one that’s visible. I told my friendly ex that I’d like to have a conversation with her after asking how her coffee date went this morning. This isn’t a ploy to be manipulative and we discussed other things rationally throughout the day, however I feel it’s owed to her to set things straight.

My childhood playmate (nothing sexual, like kids you sick fuck) reached out and actually chatted with me in a way that didn’t make me convinced she was going to have me join a cult. Which was nice, but I still kinda think she’s only reaching out to join a cult.

I got to thinking about how I finally unblocked my ex wife and offered an open line of communication from my end whether she accepts it or not. She’ll need to initiate it. I realized that with my most recent ex, I want none of that acrimony a year down the lane. There were genuine feelings there, there was genuine loss at the end, but there was a reason that it was relatively easy on both of us based on how we actually felt together.

My most recent ex and me… this relationship made me believe in the possibility of loving again. Like that numb-in-the-fucking-arms, dead-in-the-reason-center, all-encompassing love where you begin to get damn near blind in the person’s presence. You forget who you are, but at the same time love everything you have become because this other person has found love in it and IT FUCKING WORKED! Holy shit, this is an amazing feeling.

I’ve been fortunate to have this in many, many relationships. Anything that I’d consider a “relationship” for that matter. Being beyond head-over-heels, legitimately, completely, and wholly. This feels so fucking good. If you’ve been there, you get it. If you haven’t, then you’re pining for it and I hope you get to experience it one day.

In the spirit of reaching out, I decided to reach out to my most recent ex. I had finally gotten to the point of thinking about her where it didn’t make my stomach kind of turn in an uncomfortable way — she didn’t make me want to puke, but more the uneasy, anxious feeling of country road hiccups in the roads. Didn’t wanna confront it was the biggest thing, but with that feeling gone it sounded really nice to spend some time with her. So I sent her a message, asked her out on a date, and she was into it! Like, holy shit. Wow. That’s fucking neat.

We went to dinner where we used to go, bitched about work and life situations, and then decided to get a drink at the bar by her house. Sadly no karaoke tonight so it’ll just be us and our thoughts. She orders this near-no-alcohol drink and I order a beer I really enjoyed when I smoked — didn’t so much tonight. However, it’s probably the least popular beer in the bar and is notorious for going stale in the lines. So I quickly forgave them, but only inched away at my drink.

My ex asked me outside to the lil smoking shed and asked my permission to smoke in front of me. I have made it through multiple rehearsals without smoking as well as going out in public, so whatever. This was pretty easy to not smoke. Where I found it difficult to not smoke was when others came and interacted. Would I need to explain my smoking nature? Do I have to defend? Oh, no, you fucks are all drunk so a) I don’t care, and b) I really don’t care your opinion. It wound up being nice being able to focus the conversation with my ex. We spoke pretty frankly about things and that was pretty great.

We finally got to the point in the night where we’re sitting across from each other like, “it shoulda worked out but…” and we went back and forth like this. We had some great observations about each other. We revealed things about ourselves that made our relationship fundamentally not work. Fuck, by the end we were both thinking, “well fuck, had we just smoked more pot and communicated more we could have avoided all of this.”

But that’s the extra OK part. There’s still fundamental things we don’t like about each other that would bug the piss out of us day-to-day. And when you break it down to having a partner for life, that day-to-day shit really adds up in a humongous fucking way.

All-in-all, it’s likely the gin and profuse amount of hyphenations in this post that made me bloviate in such a way.

For once I feel confident. I’ve taken control of my life. I’ve found some solutions to situations I felt I couldn’t control. I’m still marginally nervous for tomorrow, but I am excited to approach it. My kids have a place to live, we have food to eat, I have work in the hopper ready to go and hopefully pay, and I’m not a completely unlovable piece of human garbage. That’s probably the nicest part. And I’m wildly fortunate to have kept open these lines of communication and honesty to allow for this.

To put a funny turd cherry on the cake of mental health awareness and honesty, there was a person I briefly dated that I met on a dating app. She was a pretty awesome person. Came from a really unfortunate closeted mormon marriage, changed her meds, and was in overall life disarray but had real specific ideas on what she wanted in a sexual partner. So we had some fun from time to time, we shared some professional services between, then when I pointed out that a relationship between us wouldn’t work because of our different wants and day-to-day temperaments, she flipped her shit. Like upside down don’t know how she interpreted anything beyond, “I think you’re a rad person but thing we wouldn’t be able to remain friends if we tried a relationship and it failed.” So excuuuuuuuuuuse… meeeeeeeeeeee. Anyway, I got home to see that she had favorited me on a dating app after having some kind of weight loss surgery. Made me super uncomfortable, but reinforced what my most recent ex had conveyed to me. It also echoed what my friendly ex has been exuding towards me and how I’ve been feeling towards her. It showed me that holy shit, there is some reason beyond the immediate negative feeling madness. Humans largely want to feel good by the people they surround themselves with. And why the fuck not? So if we can continue being the best we can of ourselves, then I think that we’re going to be drawn towards our exes and visa versa. And that’s totally ok. I’m excited for approaching life like this.

After getting home, eating leftovers from dinner with the ex, smoking some weed, I went out for a walk. I just started fucking crying. It was really cathartic. The love my ex and I felt for each other was really fucking real. That was really great. It really faded. All this shit her and I felt together was real. There was no intent to hurt the other by like, “it wasn’t as good for me.” or any banal insult like that. It was really honest and I felt worthy of a human’s love again. And that felt so beautiful to me: the concept that we loved so incredibly hard, deeply, and true and it was a mutual separation and disembodiment… wow. I hope y’all get to have this feeling once in your life.

Now I’m genuinely excited to talk to my friendly ex and discuss how we make each other feel, why, and how and to quote Death, “Where do we go from heeeeeeeereeee”

Holy fuck! What a whirlwind of a day that I totally forgot to mention the Sanctimonious Twat from the other day. We had a full rehearsal today and I think we finally connected. Like, we can play together, we do things, got it? Ok, you pick up fast, and now you see I do too. Good. No need to be a dick anymore. Stop fucking off and let’s be cool.