2005-02-08 - 8:14 a.m.
If I were to be given a new life, not a replacement life, but another life to enrich the life that I already had, I would choose differently.
I would live a life that feeds my desire to create. I would go back to the place I was before I met any man, or boy, and fell in love.
I would persue that original dream, the before the love of my life dream,
the one where I go to Hollywood and become a cinematographer, and write the great american novel, and see the world dream.
What happened to bring me here today?
I am where I started. I am with a man that quit his job, wants to build a house, and thinks everything either belongs to him, or is owed to him.
I want so badly to run away. I want my $20K back. I want my life, that I was just beginning to get, back.
Ron and I have settled on a divorce agreement. He is a nightmare, a frequent nightmare. Last night he came into my dreams again, screwing up my mind and choking the life out of me.
Dennis has figuratively pissed all over the upstairs again, claiming that he needs his space or he can't get anything done. He blames the mess on me and reports that he has taken my mess and set it aside. I can not imagine what is mine up here so I come up the stairs to discover this tiny little folder with some papers in it, the first 5 belong to him, and I go no further. I take my "mess" downstairs and remain silent.
Then he wants to tell me something, he can not come out and say it. He just drags on and on about how he can not accomplish anything when everything is so unorganized. The bottom line, he wants his truck back from Rocky.
He finds that he can not build a shed without a permit (duh) can not get a permit without drawings (duh) and has to follow code (dud) for the construction. His little house of cards is tumbling and it has nothing to do with him taking on more than he could possibly ever chew, let alone know how to chew, it is all about my folder... my "mess".
He still has the pictures of his old girlfriend upstairs, only he has re arranged them several times. When I met him he told me how miserable she was, now he says that she was "a nice person".
I don't need this, I don't need any of this. I have to start staking out a place, planning my escape. This is going to go badly, very, very badly.
What do you think dad?
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