The Hims
The five year old says to him, because the kid is not at all shy, “Are you here because Ben isn’t here anymore?” I cut him off before he could respond. “He’s just a friend, kiddo.” Addison is just inquisitive, as five year olds are. But it did strike me, you know, that he wants to see adults paired up, see them together, because he thinks that’s what makes them happy. He’ll find out the truth later on.
I broke up with Ben a couple of weeks ago, sent him packing back to Wisconsin. This would be the third time that a person has completely changed, transformed right before my fucking eyes, upon departing from ‘their own element’. [Bobby moved with me from Asheville to Wisconsin in 2009, & Michael left Scottsdale to come with me to St. Simons Island the year prior.] Note to self: do not allow people to move with you in the future. People, in the main, are not as strong as you might like, might expect, might hope for.
I still think about a couple of people, though none of the ones mentioned above, but these are stories for another post. I think about them because, right now, I need to. I need a sense of emotional connection, even if it’s to the untangible, faces from the past.
Something that should be said, perhaps because this just happened to me - I’m nearly 30 years old and for the past handful of days, post-Ben, I was having this ‘thing’ with a 22 year old. Now, we may hang out in some of the same places, we may have some common interests, and in this case, we had some good conversations, he has some good qualities going on for him. Some, not all, but fine. He’s also 22 fucking years old. And you can be coerced into neglecting that fact for a bit of time, like that new car smell or the honeymoon after a wedding, but then you begin to see it. And I just don’t need one more thing right now.
To Asheville next week, for a while, to clear my head.
I broke up with Ben a couple of weeks ago, sent him packing back to Wisconsin. This would be the third time that a person has completely changed, transformed right before my fucking eyes, upon departing from ‘their own element’. [Bobby moved with me from Asheville to Wisconsin in 2009, & Michael left Scottsdale to come with me to St. Simons Island the year prior.] Note to self: do not allow people to move with you in the future. People, in the main, are not as strong as you might like, might expect, might hope for.
I still think about a couple of people, though none of the ones mentioned above, but these are stories for another post. I think about them because, right now, I need to. I need a sense of emotional connection, even if it’s to the untangible, faces from the past.
Something that should be said, perhaps because this just happened to me - I’m nearly 30 years old and for the past handful of days, post-Ben, I was having this ‘thing’ with a 22 year old. Now, we may hang out in some of the same places, we may have some common interests, and in this case, we had some good conversations, he has some good qualities going on for him. Some, not all, but fine. He’s also 22 fucking years old. And you can be coerced into neglecting that fact for a bit of time, like that new car smell or the honeymoon after a wedding, but then you begin to see it. And I just don’t need one more thing right now.
To Asheville next week, for a while, to clear my head.