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Posted by on October 6, 2017

The title pretty much sums up my feelings on this year. Oh sure every year we go into the new year hopeful and thoughtful and then the shit grinds us down. This year has been yet another grinding trying one and frankly I am ready to just say FUCK IT.

I have lost count how many times I have been told to “leave me alone”.

Hell I can’t even pick an actual anniversary date because there has been so much goodbye turkey. Oh no I am sorry I lied, cheated, broke your heart and made a mistake. Pretty much the routine of my life. Why should this year be any different.

I really am the stupidest man on the whole damn planet to think that anything will ever be different. I am beyond moronic to plan a few months ahead for the holidays let alone for life. Truly I end up feeling like the biggest buffoon every time I think about anything.

This time I have been dumped because she couldn’t sew…..and because I didn’t leave her alone long enough. Yeah. I am trying to get my head around that one too. I can sew so I could help, I have despite the utter ream of bullshit that just happened still offered too because its never a child’s fault. But really?

Yeah Fuck 2017.

I don’t know why I am posting this, maybe because I don’t want to bend a fountain pen and keys are more forgiving to start with. Maybe to remind myself just what a shit ass year it has been when I start to waver again. Maybe I don’t know and I am just a moron all the way around.

See I always thought that when you were in a relationship you worked as a team. That no matter how hard things got that you supported each other and that you found ways to compromise. Am I wrong? I mean did I miss the memo on relationships and suddenly that isn’t what they are about anymore? Hell maybe that is why nothing has ever worked out for me. I am missing the memo. Maybe someone can clue me in eventually.

Isn’t it funny that whenever you’re the one being emotionally torn apart with a variety of digs and stabs that the final bit is always something along the lines of it’s not you it’s me? Your not the failure I am. Your love was never in doubt it’s me and all those variations. I have never understood that. Yes I am guilty of having used it a time or two myself, but I still say I never understood it. Like if that is true then WHY? Why am I the one fighting FOR a relationship while I am being kicked in the emotional dick?

I probably never will understand it.

I feel like a broken record yet again…so I guess I will end with something I was hoping to share over the weekend. Something my therapist had asked me to do as a way to try and explain how being locked in combat brain can feel like. Given the latest explosion and that at the end of it there was a, “Can you just leave me alone for a few days. It might have been okay if you had just left me alone.” this weekend will likely be another lonely affair with beer and maybe a wank, if I can even bother which I probably wont. So beer it is.

An alarm clock chimes across a pitch-black room. I slowly rise. Standing in my bathroom, I brush my teeth and shave away yesterday’s stubble – part of every Marine’s mandatory morning routine. The person in the mirror seems somehow unfamiliar. Downstairs, the morning pot of coffee brews. I finally begin to wake. Leaving home, the roads are lined with beautiful farmland, backlit by a rising sun. Morning dew glinting off the fields gives way to a kaleidoscope of neon signs as I reach town. Pulling into the parking lot, I take a deep breath and step out of my truck.

Our Marine morning routine consists of running on dirt pathways along a beautiful flowing river. Our footsteps echo off pine trees. Three miles later it ends with sore feet and tired lungs. Staring into the shower’s flowing water, I dread this time of day the most. Drying myself off I dress in my camouflage utilities. Only recently do I feel as though I cannot live up to the Marine Corps insignia I wear over my heart. Being a United States Marine means showing no weakness, no pain, especially to your subordinates. As I button my shirt my facade takes shape, and I am off to fake the day.

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