Watch your step. *****UPDATED****

I am broken. I am a puddle of nothing. I AM nothing. There's nothing left inside of me. I have been beaten down this month. Whether it was the stress of the new job or the stress of my mother's health which hasn't so much improved or just slowed its downward spiral temporarily... or whether it was caused by women... I am sitting here with nothing left in me. No compassion. No warmth. No caring. No empathy or sympathy. No love. I watch friends making what seem to be mistakes and the most I can muster is a "I don't think you should do that".

That ain't ME, people.

I ain't the type to watch a friend get hit by a bus. I ain't the type to simply yell, "Hey, asshole, look out for that bus!" I'm the one running at you to push your ass out of the damn way!

And yet... here I am... barely able to get my voice above a whisper.

And that was before tonite.

Tonight the last vestiges of myself were obliterated.

I get to start the new year with nothing more than the hope that mom makes it thru it. And that's WITHOUT the confidence that she will like in past years.

The month started off with me dealing with the ramifications of a choice I made in a woman. It seemed I made the wrong choice. I had overestimated our abilities to overcome our past and paid for it. But at the encouragement of another, I decided to rectify that and make the decision many were telling me was the correct one from the start.

We got along great.

We had stuff in common and were open to the stuff we didn't have in common.

We could spend every day together and not get bored. Even when we were friends we could do that. (Now this isn't uncommon for ME to be able to do that... when I like someone, it's never too much time together. But it IS odd for the other person to agree!)

The biggest hurdle, it seemed, was that we worried it was too much too soon. So we agreed to back off. That lasted all of a few days and then we were right back to spending days together. Sometimes even WHOLE 24 hours plus together. We never had to PLAN our next 'date' or 'meeting', it would just happen when the mood struck us... and it struck a LOT.

But now it seems the truth has come out. Once before our relationship was damaged because she had told me a stupid lie. A truly dumb one. No reason to NOT tell the truth sort of lie. And it damaged the trust. I was working thru it and was learning to trust her again when she dropped a new bomb on me today.

"You want to know the clue to me: I want what I cant have. When I get it, its not as important anymore. It isnt a game... for being able to read people I thought you would have figured me out by now."

I am left with nothing inside to hold me up. I am a puddle of goo on the ground.

Watch your step.



*************************************

New events and comments have brought much into doubt. Instead of making things better, it simply makes it all worse. Why must be people be like this? Why is it SO hard just to say what you mean and say the TRUTH?

A Year Worth of Holidays

Gimme some aspirin!

Gimme some lovin!

Gimme something to drink!

Gimme some colored eggs!

Gimme a day off!

Gimme... uh... gimme the summer off!

Gimme fireworks!

Gimme SOMETHING... christ, August sucks!

Gimme another day off!

Gimme some candy!

Thanks... now gimme some turkey!

Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme Gimme!

Gimme a kiss and something to drink!

Gimme some aspirin!

..........

Merry Christmas 2006

Choices... decisions... options... selections... mistakes

What do you do when you feel like you keep making the wrong choices? It never fails, I change lanes on the highway and suddenly that lane that seemed to be moving at warp speed comes to a screaching halt. I change lines at Publix and I end up behind an old fuck who needs to seriously lay down cuz I'm pretty sure they're dead. I pick the wrong day to take a personal day. I pick the wrong fast food joint to eat lunch at. I pick the wrong xmas present. I flirt with the wrong woman. I grab the wrong watermelon. I used to call this "Betting on the wrong horse"... no I just call it "making a decision."

My recent "love" life has been a prime example of all this. If I'm not picking the one who ends up going back with her ex I'm picking the one who has to move out of the fucking COUNTRY or I'm picking the one who isn't ready for a serious relationship or I am picking that one AGAIN.

This has never been more in my face than within the past couple or three months. I was recently presented with a choice... could've been a BIG choice in my life... had that sort of potential, you know? I chose someone based on reason and history and potential. From the moment I made that choice I Was being told it was the wrong one.

Oh, not by my friends or family... they didn't really even know. Nope it was HER doing the telling. Granted, should've been my first clue, right, but I am not one to quit. Except a job that's too boring or too much work for the $. But when it comes to women, I am a tenacious bastard! And when it's because I actually made a CHOICE... well, by god, I am going to do what it takes to stand by it. Granted, there is a LOT of info here that I will not go into. Sorry, but I won't. Just trust me when I say there is more here than simply me dating a girl who ended up being bad for me... or vice versa. Sure... we had low points. We had too much history. Sad, but true. The same thing that could've made us stronger ended up hurting us. We couldn't let go of the times we accidentally or purposely hurt each other. Whether it was when SHE ran and hid from her feelings for me or when I got upset and vented and (accidentally... for the most part) used my knowledge of her against her... not publically, mind you. Lots of events. But dammit... when we were ON... we were golden.

Even she admitted the goodtimes were amazing. "Best ever"... her words. Mine, too, really.

But it wasn't meant to be and I wonder if deep down I always knew that... even the FIRST time we played at dating.

But we hit a major snag... much of it my fault. And she went running and hiding yet again. I made decisions and choices... all of them WRONG.

But what was the wrong choice? Was it WHO I picked or how I went about it or how I behaved during? All of them? Only a couple?

But now I have moved on... and I am sure she did, too. She shows all the signs (and I have told her this) and if history/precedence is any indicator, her behavior tells me she has moved on. Anywho, not important... what IS is that I have been faced now with a wonder if my current choice is also a mistake. New developments have arisen that frighten me. A certain behavior that those who know me will know bothers me above all others. And I don't know what to do.

What if I make the wrong choice?

How do I trust what I choose?

Should I ignore what it tells me and focus more on all the really great things? Should I accept that it was a one (or five) time(s) thing that won't happen again? But what if THAT is the wrong one?


Anywho... that's my dilemma... in rather general terms.

It's a long one... but just a story

Barbara looked out the window carefully; a simple peer from the side making sure not to move the blinds too much. It was dark out with only a few scattered lights around the neighborhood. The same lights as every night. She could see the For Sale sign in the front yard. A sign of a nearly forgotten past. They had always wanted this house but circumstances prevented them from ever buying it officially. Barbara turned her eyes away from it, quielty waiting, her brow furrowed in concern. George was taking longer than before.

It was then she heard a rustling in the bushes on the side of the house. The only time George made that much noise was when he thought he was being followed. She hurriedly moved the dresser back away from the door and unlatched the chain. Keeping the door pressed shut, Barbara turned the handle.

George burst in with something under his left arm. She could see the fear on his face. He put the index finger from his free hand up to his lips when Barbara opened up her mouth and she quickly closed it. He held his finger there, eyes darting around the room, for several more moments. His shoulders slumped and his head leaned forward as a sign of his relief.

He gestured over to the dining room, or what was left of it, and she walked over to clear room for his catch. George placed the dog carcass on the table and looked Barbara in the eyes, smiling. The spittle on its snout told her it was fresh. It may not be what they hungered for but it was better than what they've had for a couple of weeks: rats, birds, gophers and other local pests. At least it had some meat on it, she thought.

Times had changed for them and they were adjusting as best they could. All told, it was better than the alternative. They both knew it could easily be worse. It had only been one year since the "plague" had hit. That was all anyone seemed to understand. An unknown agent was introduced into the world that, in one night, caused all the recently deceased to come back.

And they came back hungry.

The dead became the top of the food chain. Anything living was fair game but they preferred human flesh. The media mistakenly called them "cannibals" but that wasn't the truth. They were as far removed from living people as George and Barbara were from the dog laid out before them. As they began to take off pieces of the former neighborhood pet, their minds continued to wander.

George and Barbara were drawn to this house when the plague first began. They had been planning on buying it and their first thoughts were to run here. It helped that they had nowhere else to go. Soon they found out they weren't alone here.

They remembered the neighborhood coming together in the face of adversity. They remembered how each person had a purpose and no one was left out. Word would spread fast whenever something happened, good or bad. Hostile encounters and quiet moments were shared. No one stood alone and no one was left to fend for themselves. If food was discovered, no one kept it secret. Often times, it required a group to really deal with the kill anyway.

But slowly, their numbers dwindled. Some would go out searching for more to eat and never return. It wasn't difficult to figure out what had happened. The confusion that dominated the world for months after the plague hit slowly turn to monotony and habit. Hide, hunt, eat. Basic drives became more important.

They both continued to eat what they could of the dog. The fur was difficult to deal with but pulled off easier around the larger pieces. They had noticed that since the plague, no one had any issues with raw meat. No one got sick anymore. No one had colds or fevers or any other ailment. Hunger was the only illness and raw or cooked, it was meat that satisfied it. The body needed the protein and other nutrients to be able to withstand the stresses of the new world.

Sounds outside made them both come back to the present. Shadows moved in front of the dim lights on the shades. George's eyes went wide and began to push Barbara towards the back. The master bedroom had a deep closet that actually had a corner in it. They kept large boxes near it that could quickly be pulled to make it seem as if the closet ended. It had served them well once before. Barbara tugged one last piece off and without saying a word, followed George as he shuffled towards the sanctuary.

As they turned the corner into the closet and began pulling the boxes, they heard the front door open. The sounds of the intruders made them jump, almost tipping the top box over. If it hadn't been for George's reflexes, though the motion caused a grunt from him, they would've been easily discovered. As it was, they could hear the intruders moving about. It sounded like at least two but may have been three.

Without any further noise, they crouched down, and he pulled her tightly to him. They sat huddled, hugging, and listened. George kissed Barbara on the back of her head tenderly. He wanted to say what he felt but knew he couldn't. Barbara showed similar restraint as she responded by simply tightenting her grip on his arms.

They heard the footsteps of one of the invaders as he came into the master bedroom. He was clearly working his way around the room. They heard the bed move and then the bathroom door open with such force, they wondered if he had kicked it in. All that was left in the room was the closet.

The footsteps became louder.

They heard the clothes move on their hangers.

George stared at the boxes, dreading any sign of movement in them. Barbara pulled his arms even tighter around her. The footsteps took a few steps back and her grip relaxed but then, the top box was pulled down and away from them. George pushed her forward, to hide in the very corner and he stood up, screaming.

With all the anger he could muster, George plowed through the remaining boxes to get at the stranger in his home. He managed to get ahold of the man, dressed all in black. He tugged at the strange jacket the stranger was wearing and tried to twist. He was hoping to throw him to the ground but was unsuccessful. Instead, George felt two hands hit his chest and he staggered back against the wall next to the closet.

Barbara sat in a fetal position inside the closet, listening to the fight. The loud pop of a gun shot startled her but she kept quiet. She knew what George did and wasn't going to let his sacrifice be in vain.

Unfortunately, these intruders were more experienced at this. The man who had just shot her husband and defender peaked around the corner, made eye contact with her and just as she was about to plead for any sort of mercy, she felt her head explode.

The other one had come into the bedroom and saw the body sprawled out on the carpet.

"Jesus fucking christ, Jimmy," he said, "what the fuck you doin'?"

Jimmy walked back out of the closet, wiping his forehead. "Fuck, man, there was two of 'em. The bastards were fuckin' hiding, man!" He stared at the male... the thing... that was still twitching where he had dropped it. Raising his gun, he took more careful aim than when he was trying to keep the creature from biting him, and said while shaking his head, "I swear, Tom, they were hiding."

One more shot and the thing stopped moving completely.