Aisle 16

Aisle 16: Greating Cards

Well, I was going about the large task of packing my room up for the great move of 2006 and, as is customary, I came across all the letters my uber-ex sent me. Letters, cards, notes, poems, short stories, photos and so forth, all of them. I decided the smart thing would be to go through them all. Read each and every letter and then throw them out. Kind of a great purging of all that I'm leaving behind (i.e. my past). Now these letters spanned from 98' to 2000, which was the initial phase of the realationship (there were many break ups and patch ups between us), so all were written while I was still in high school and she was just starting college.

It's a depressing task, going through all those memories. Each letter further proving that some one once thought the world of me, yet could still be capable of cheating on me... that never added up for me, but bah it's in the past and the past is in the garbage bag in my bedroom. My bedroom, coincidentally enough is not were I'll be sleeping. All the crap I needed to shift through has been placed on my bed, and I don't feel up to pushing it back on the ground in order to move it back onto the bed tomorrow. So it's either couch or floor tonight. I may go for couch.

Young love is an odd beast. It seems to be constantly filled with both parties constantly reminding the other of their love. Futures are planned out in great detail, and time apart is made into such a large scale deal that it could almost kill. Call me a jaded, bitter asshole but I can't see that happening again. At least not as intensly as it once was.

Oh to top it off I found one of the letters where she mentioned us moving away from CT together and having cats and kids. It was at this point that I sort of already proposed (but as I had no ring I gave her a cheap theater wedding band, it was the closest thing to a cracker jack box ring), it's odd thinking that while in high school I was willing to marry some one. The me that is now, was greatly shaped by that relationship, it screwed me the hell up. Most of the screw ups happened after the age of letters ended, so thankfully I already got rid of all the emails that made up that era.

Relationships. I suck at them. I suck starting them and I suck ending them. It's the middle part I'm kind of not sucky at. I keep on wanting a relationship but I have to ask why? Why bother? It seems the only people (with one or two exceptions) I can get interested in me are people I have no interest in dating, and the ones I actually wouldn't mind dating well... stuff comes up and gets in the way, that's life. So my choice is either settle for crap or say fuck it. My answer is fuck both those choices. I like neither of them. So instead I'm going to have to go to the grave yard and dig me up some corpses to make the perfect woman!!! Ok I've watched Bride of Frankenstein one too many times, ya think?

One thing I did notice that in the letters the guy painted (which I guess would be me) was sweet, considerate and passionately romantic. Like hollywood romantic (only not fake). Am I still that? I don't know about the romantic bit but I do know I'm a hell of alot more sarcastic and (oddly) honest now. So that's a plus.

Ugh... I don't feel like finishing this. Let's just leave it at I managed to depress myself a bit and I can't sleep on my bed. Rock on me.