Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Why I shouldn't be allowed to watch Parenthood alone OR What happens when I start up to late at night.

I've spent entirely too much time watching episodes of Parenthood tonight. (It should be noted that the current time as I'm writing this is 0334 on Wednesday.)That damn show should come with a warning label.

What that means to you folks is that I'm emotional, and I oftentimes find myself writing in times such as these.

What you are about to read might be any or all of the following:  sad, sappy, crazy cat lady, tmi, revealing, pathetic, honest, courageous to admit, bold, old news (if you know me well), news to you (if you don't), whiny, empowering, oorah, silly, unnecessary to post for all the world to read, necessary to post for all the world to read... I could go on.

One time there was a friend of mine that said I should stop posting all these whiny sappy blogs, and "maybe that was my problem." That person is no longer a friend (for that and several other reasons). Because this is MY blog, and what better place to put such ramblings? I'm not forcing anyone to read anything, but if they do? Hey, maybe they'll learn a thing or two, about me or even themselves. What can I say? It's cathartic putting these things/feelings out into the cosmos.

I feel the need to announce that I am not depressed, just... in a post-Parenthood reflective state of mind. Like corn, this, too, shall pass.

This is a post on a blog that I haven't opened publicly because all the posts were to a certain person. That person isn't... (it sounds awful to say, but...) deserving of the attention I've been paying him with my precious free time, so I'll be done with that. Or at least done with dedicating it to him. It's possible I'll be sharing some of these past entries here in the future as well. In the meantime, readers, friends and family - read at your own risk. You know, or don't. I'll still love you.


It's not you.

It's not me.

Actually, it's kind of you. 

You, and every other guy that came before you.
Every guy that ever cheated on me. Every guy that never treated me the way I deserved. Every guy that ever left me for another girl. Every guy that wouldn't leave another girl for me. Every guy that ever let me down. Every guy that ever broke my heart. Every guy that ever hurt me, on accident or on purpose. Every guy that swore he'd never hurt me like the ones before and then did anyway. Every guy who tried to hide me. Every guy who wouldn't fight for me. Every guy who never saw me for the amazing person that I am. Every guy who said he saw me for the amazing person that I am and still let me go. Every guy who didn't stay. Every guy who didn't turn out to be the man he said he was. Every guy who didn't turn out to be the man I said he was.

It's all of you who've helped me to doubt myself, sometimes on a daily basis. All of you who've helped make it easy for me, on more than several occasions, to foolishly look past the amazing, wondrous blessings that fill my life and see something missing instead. All of you who've helped me to forget that I actually love the me that you've passed up, and that there's nothing I could have done to make any of you stay because this - look around - this is how things are meant to be. For now.

Okay, so maybe it's a little me. But I've had a lot of help. I don't think I want your help anymore.


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