Daily Archives: November 12, 2012

I hate waking up alone on my birthday. This is the third year in a row, now, and I think I’m getting a complex about it. I suppose it simply heightens the sense of unpleasant solitude; of being closer to the end than the beginning. Whatever the case, it puts me in an incredibly foul mood that sticks for days.

The day didn’t get much better. I was heading off to scout locations in Nevada and central California for Cowboys & Engines, and… I’m going to scrimp on the details so I don’t have to relive the story to tell it, but let me give you a few talking points:

  • Two huge, over-the-phone, work-related arguments.
  • Broken-down car in the desert.
  • $400 tow.
  • Rental car.
  • Wallet lost.
  • Nothing accomplished.

That about sums it up. When I got home I had an unbelievable headache, and instead of taking four ibuprofen, I mistakenly downed four Advil PM. Not drinking or using any drugs, suddenly taking four sleeping pills dropped me like a load of bricks. I woke up the next morning twisted like a pretzel, my face glued to the pillow by dried slobber. Quelle attractive.

Luckily, there’s really no one I have to worry about being attractive for. After two fairly heavy discussions now, one with LL crying, the second with me on the verge, she’s made it plain that We — e.g. she and I as a couple — simply isn’t going to happen (sorry, Rebecca Gray). As I mentioned, she’s just too skittish to invest her time and emotions in someone as wrecked as I am, and I can’t blame her a bit. For another (to reiterate), I’m a bitter, angry, sullen prick (my words, not hers), and she doesn’t want to put up with that, either. Again, who can blame her?

It isn’t as if she needs me. She has her aforementioned cadre of men to fulfill her various needs, and really, I have no desire to be just another guy in the rotation. I’m fine with sharing my partner, and I’m fine with just being a fuck buddy, or a friend, but I’ve learned I’m not okay with being an also-ran.

So, I lumber into 45 still alone, with no one at fault except myself. It’s a burden I can shoulder. I’m actually getting pretty goddamned good at it.

At this point Vega will call or text or write to assure me I’m not alone, and I can choose to be with her whenever I want… but just as LL knows being with me won’t work for her, I understand that for Vega, I’m nothing but a few years of hard work and heartbreak. (It’s true, J. You know it). And I like her too much to inflict that on her.

Does this signal the return of the MCWBT? I’d like to think not. I think it means burying myself in work, geeky shit, and meaningless, twisted sex with girls who are far too young for me. If only I were smart enough to be satisfied with just that…

There’s nothing wrong with being shallow as long as you’re insightful about it.”

— Dennis Miller

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