nothing lasts forever

it was the very last time i was going to see her. we made promises that it wouldn't be, but you know how those things go. days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, and months turn into years, but i suppose it really doesn't have to be a bad thing.

we had met at a friend's birthday years back and hit it off over some cocktails. we didn't really see each other seriously until much later, but we cruised into it hot and heavy. it was that love like molasses, deep and heavy. thick to the touch and and all encapsulating. we drank each others worlds and were happy to be lost together. two kids with no fore or hindsight, just a dangerously addictive need for the other.

we promised so many things to each other. so many trivial things. so dependent on each other that we would go through withdrawals when the other was away. we moved in together pretty quickly. we played house and things were nice because we felt like it made us adults, living together and sharing things. her cooking, me taking out the trash, her decorating the house, me sorting out the bills. we grew together and forgave each other's mishaps and bad habits. maybe forgave is too strong a word, overlooked.

we never thought that things could fade. we thought that we would stand the test of time, that we were different from every other couple. in our minds our love was as great as those remembered in the annals of time. how young and naive we were.

those little overlooked mishaps and bad habits turned to belittling comments and sardonic quips. we snapped at each other, forgetting what it was that had brought us together. and soon we were at each other's throats, trying to tear the other to pieces. we broke each other down from the inside out. so much for love. so much for forever.

like everything in this world, nothing lasts forever. i knew it was the end and so did she. we just didn't want to mutter the words. we were scared to lose everything that we knew. all the time we had been together. this little world we had created. an end of an era.

she said she needed to get out. that she was going to move back with her mom. just for a little while. that it was just the break we needed to clear our heads. to maybe work it out with some space. "they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder" she said. her beautiful lies. and i ate them up.

we cried and cried and wouldn't let each other go, but it was for the very best and we both knew so in our hearts. i guess i just made it out like she was just gonna take a little vacation. that she would be back in a little while and things would be good again. like a drug addict going off to rehab. but i was wrong.

she packed up and i dropped her off at the train station. she kissed me before she got out of the car and looked at me with sad, sad eyes. i could feel myself welling up. she turned to leave and made her way to the platform. she turned around one last time before the staircase and made a heart with her hands and mouthed "i love you" with the last smile she could muster.

it was the very last time i was going to see her. we made promises that it wouldn't be, but you how those things go. days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, and months turn into years, but i suppose it really doesn't have to be a bad thing.

get up, get out, and do it again

i wouldn't say that i've had the best summer ever. it's tough getting older, trying to hold things together, being responsible. if i wasn't coaching water polo, i don't know how i would have made it over these last few months. it's weird to think that a group of kids could have so much impact on my life. i guess the only times i dislike the job is when i see the devastatingly defeated looks on the their faces after a loss. it crushes me.

i look at them and just see potential. potential to be whatever they want. to work them to the very extremes of their abilities, only to make them get up, get out, and do it agin. sometimes i wish there was someone in my life who would push me to go harder, to go faster, to not ever give up, every fucking day. telling me that it's going to suck today, but maybe tomorrow will suck a little less.

it might sound a little sadistic, but i make it a point of making one kid puke a week, at least for the first few weeks. i want them to learn limitations, to understand the point where your body just says no. i've seen dozens of bloody noses, black eyes, and one kid actually getting a tooth knocked out during a match. and i revel in it, it makes me feel young.  pride just doesn't fully encapsulate how i feel when a kid gets his nose busted and still has the heart to jump back in the water. there's not many people with that type of character.

i don't think i can do this forever, the pay isn't great and the hours are crap. the boys always ask if i'm coming back next year and i honestly don't know. i feel so very unsure of my life at this point. i want to move to new york, i want to get out of here, i want to travel for months on end, i want to run until my memories can't catch up with me. but i've got this big ass dog, i've got these bills to pay, i've got paintings to make, and i don't think that i'm just quite finished with what i need to complete here.

defeat is never easy to deal with. i can't stand to lose. it's never the wins i think about when reminiscing. it's always the defeats, those moments you wish you had made a better move, done something a little different, not made so many mistakes. but you only really learn about yourself through some crushing blows. it's only when you get a real nice fat gut check that you really start to make some major life decisions. i've seen so many kids quit. so many kids about to turn the corner, but instead turn tail after some hardships. there's nothing you can do, it's just not in some people's dna.

i would like to think that i have a strong resolve. that i am made of a character with substantial fortitude. but lately it's been tough. i've been letting my own doubts seep into my life, into my work. unsure of the next move, the next stroke. lost. really. but sometimes in life as in water polo, there's nothing but to get up, get out, and do it again.

handyman

i'm doing a bit of traveling in the next several months. i think a lot of it has to do purely with escape, but a lot more so because i feel like my life has become banal. i want to shake things up, get out there, feel young again, but these are all immaterial things.

i know that no change in scenery, no woman, no friends, or family will ever help me change things. they mean a great deal to me and my life, but no one will save me except myself. it makes me feel utterly lonely sometimes thinking about it. what if i can never shake this monkey, what if this is as good as it gets?

as i get older, i've started talking to my parent's a lot more. i suppose i don't really ever tell anyone anything really, but it's nice just to hear their voices and to hear about their day and so on and so forth. they live a 14 hr. flight away, so getting to see them doesn't happen often. it makes me sad sometimes, but then i think about my mom badgering me about some infinitesimally mundane thing and i'm not as sad anymore.

i've been doing a lot more drawing lately. for some reason i've been avoiding the studio like the plague.

friends come and go and most always, it's for the best.

sometimes i just need a hug.

stick a needle through my eye.

i've always felt that the true spirit of a man is found in a fight.

no matter what, their voices never completely leave me.

my friend recently called me a lovelorn fool. maybe she's right. maybe it's time to stop fixing the end of every relationship with another relationship. i stop for a moment and realize that i haven't been single since my early 20's. now, maybe it's just time to fix myself.