Detached
Lately, I've been feeling like I am watching my life from a third-person point-of-view. My dreams have been choppy, and I haven't been feeling all that hot. It happens to all of us as we continue down our life paths.
Yesterday, it snowed all day. The big fluffy flakes that remind you of some holiday movie, and it was just what I needed to sit my ass on the couch. I spent my time tirelessly scrolling on social communities, while CNN berated the president for allowing another day of the government to be shutdown; I really hate that guy.
The best part of yesterday was that I planned a day to myself. I planned the meals, movies and beverages all for me. It felt great to be a total slob, and have a reason for it. One of my good friends called me so we could laugh about life, and I heard a slight scraping sound outside. Trust me I didn't inquire, because I didn't need too. So I continued with my conversation and clove cigar, taking small puffs and exhaling as if I'm this sophisticated bastard. Then my doorbell gets attacked by someone's finger.
I was in no rush to see who it was. I mean can you picture it, a handsome black man, a snow day and a murder. I've seen that scenario before. So I decided to yell out my window just for shits and giggles; no answer. At this point I'm curious, and you know what they say about curiosity? Anywho, I open the door and there is a teddy bear attached to the door knob with a letter labeled "Best Part". I already know who its from. I open the letter reluctantly to see a message that says "Garage". I pause for a second, and roll my eyes, because I'm supposed to be a tipsy slob right now instead of a detective. Notice I haven't stopped yet.
I open the garage door, press the door opener and see that my driveway has been shoveled. "Oh he's pulling out all the stops?" I say to myself. I pull out my phone, and text him " I know where you are, and thank you." The noble gesture is appreciated, but truthfully it is not your time sweetheart. Needless to say, I was pleasant but detached.
The He is my ex-boyfriend. We've been broken up for about 4 months now, and some days I'm on an extreme high, and other days I feel like crap. I haven't quiet figured out why I feel so down some days, but I do know it has nothing to do with him. I'm just tired. Tired of the back and forth of love. I feel like the great pretender in some cases when dating. It's like you try to give yourself a chance to start over, but a part of it is false because truthfully we all wear a mask when getting to know people. If we could see the bullshit that people harbor in their hearts the world would probably be crazier than what it is now.
Back to my downtrodden thoughts, I just don't know what it is. Sometimes I think its work, but other times I think it's my wanting to be alone that is being interpreted as a temporary depression. This year I will be 35-years-old, and it's time for me to take it up a notch. I'm starting to get urges to write again, which is a good sign, but my lazy ass has been getting some great sleep lately. Nothing is what it seems anymore, which is a gift and a curse, so I'm like fuck it let's take a dive in. Maybe I need this time to renew myself, or maybe I'm creating excuses not to try.
Yesterday, it snowed all day. The big fluffy flakes that remind you of some holiday movie, and it was just what I needed to sit my ass on the couch. I spent my time tirelessly scrolling on social communities, while CNN berated the president for allowing another day of the government to be shutdown; I really hate that guy.
The best part of yesterday was that I planned a day to myself. I planned the meals, movies and beverages all for me. It felt great to be a total slob, and have a reason for it. One of my good friends called me so we could laugh about life, and I heard a slight scraping sound outside. Trust me I didn't inquire, because I didn't need too. So I continued with my conversation and clove cigar, taking small puffs and exhaling as if I'm this sophisticated bastard. Then my doorbell gets attacked by someone's finger.
I was in no rush to see who it was. I mean can you picture it, a handsome black man, a snow day and a murder. I've seen that scenario before. So I decided to yell out my window just for shits and giggles; no answer. At this point I'm curious, and you know what they say about curiosity? Anywho, I open the door and there is a teddy bear attached to the door knob with a letter labeled "Best Part". I already know who its from. I open the letter reluctantly to see a message that says "Garage". I pause for a second, and roll my eyes, because I'm supposed to be a tipsy slob right now instead of a detective. Notice I haven't stopped yet.
I open the garage door, press the door opener and see that my driveway has been shoveled. "Oh he's pulling out all the stops?" I say to myself. I pull out my phone, and text him " I know where you are, and thank you." The noble gesture is appreciated, but truthfully it is not your time sweetheart. Needless to say, I was pleasant but detached.
The He is my ex-boyfriend. We've been broken up for about 4 months now, and some days I'm on an extreme high, and other days I feel like crap. I haven't quiet figured out why I feel so down some days, but I do know it has nothing to do with him. I'm just tired. Tired of the back and forth of love. I feel like the great pretender in some cases when dating. It's like you try to give yourself a chance to start over, but a part of it is false because truthfully we all wear a mask when getting to know people. If we could see the bullshit that people harbor in their hearts the world would probably be crazier than what it is now.
Back to my downtrodden thoughts, I just don't know what it is. Sometimes I think its work, but other times I think it's my wanting to be alone that is being interpreted as a temporary depression. This year I will be 35-years-old, and it's time for me to take it up a notch. I'm starting to get urges to write again, which is a good sign, but my lazy ass has been getting some great sleep lately. Nothing is what it seems anymore, which is a gift and a curse, so I'm like fuck it let's take a dive in. Maybe I need this time to renew myself, or maybe I'm creating excuses not to try.
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