A Tragedy in 3 Acts

There’s a reason why I haven’t written in a long time. I need to get back to it. It may help me in the way I need right now in my life.

ACT I

Suddenly and without warning to my brain and heart at the time, my fiancee and partner of almost 8 years left me at the beginning of April. Throwing me into a free fall of emotional and financial turmoil. Her chief complaints? That I never respected her, or her feelings. We hung out as friends for a bit, but it only hurt me more. I would cry like a baby every time we parted ways. It just made me hope she would reconsider. I wish that was the end of the hurt, but it wasn’t. It was the way in which she decided to completely change that did me in. It made me feel as if all of our time together was nothing but a play, where she played a role and never gave me her legitimate self or heart.

I said and did many things to irrevocably destroy any sense of repairing a friendship with her. I struggle with that at times, but she’s done the same to people she’s known even longer than me during this time as well. If anything, it’s brought me closer with people I never thought I would be close to.

Over the months I’ve had time to really think about it though, and it’s clear things would have ended sooner or later. She like my ex-wife, needs “acts of service” to be shown love. In her case a caregiver in many ways. Not a partner. Something I just could not provide her. Her health is a mess, everything was a complication. Our living styles didn’t align either.

I loved her, and gave to her like I hadn’t ever before. Everyone else in my life says she used me, and I believe them now. I gave everything I could, but in the end there would never be enough because it’s not what she wanted.

ACT II

The phrase “It’s best to get over someone by getting under someone new” is quite apt for me. Why? Because in my life, it’s what has worked. I tend to go with what works instead of trying new and/or different solutions to problems.

I had been speaking with someone, we will call her L1 that I had apparently made a connection with in the past. She didn’t want me to know her identity as she was afraid of being “outed” for her preferences. She started it all by recognizing what I was going through and offering her ear. It then quickly transitioned into us becoming play partners for a time, while she wore a mask to keep her identity a secret.

She gave me the most memorable, amazing and fulfilling experience I’ve had with BDSM before. She made it easy to give her the things she wanted, and she made that experience satisfying and fulfilling. Something my ex just couldn’t do.

But I wanted more than she was willing to provide, so I began trying to date. Eventually I met a wonderful lady that we will call L2. Our first date lasted 8 hours! There was excitement, there was chemistry and there was possibility.

There was a problem though. L1 caught wind of L2 and got very jealous of the attention she was getting from me, and wanted it for herself. During my 2nd date with L2, L1 texted and called me incessantly. All but begging me not to continue seeing her, go all the way with her, etc.

I was stuck. I’ve never been a ladies man. I’ve never had a choice when it came to the opposite sex. So I did something I never thought I’d do. I left L2 in a hotel room and drove halfway across my state to be with L1. We laid in her bed until she had to go to work and tried to talk through these things.

We ended up going on a couple of dates, and things were looking up. That was until my phone broke while on a trip visiting my sister. L1 instantly thought I was with L2 because I wasn’t answering her texts.

Because of this, I essentially begged L2 to take me back. Which she did for a while until she ghosted me without warning, then blocked me from all social media. I’ll never understand, and I’ve quit trying to. It’ll only confuse me more.

I’ve felt like up is down and left is right this summer. I’ve found things I enjoy, things I dislike, and things my heart truly misses.

ACT III

For almost a year and a half, my best friend and his son have been living in my home. They had been evicted from the apartment they shared with his brother and wife and were going to be homeless. There are few people in the world I would do anything for, but they are on that list.

It hasn’t been sunshine and roses. Most of the time they didn’t help me out financially or in any other ways. My best friend, a really bad alcoholic with diabetes would drink pretty much any of the alcohol I would buy for myself before I had a chance to even drink it. It was frustrating beyond measure.

But at least they had a home, a place to rest, a place to shower, a place where they could be comfortable.

July 23rd was a normal and unusual day it seemed. I went to work, came home and thought they were both gone. The son working at Walmart, the best friend driving around doing Lyft. But I was wrong. As I sat in my living room watching TV, my best friend was deceased in my basement. It wasn’t until his son came home and I heard “dad, dad, dad, DAD, DAAAAAADDDDDD” that I knew what was up.

He slowly crept upstairs and asked me to call 911, in a broken voice. And so I did. The operator asked me to check on him, to see if CPR or other life saving measures could be done, but he was icy to the touch. He was gone. This began the parade of Sheriff’s, Firefighter’s, EMTs, and finally the Coroner.

I did what had to be done, as he had nothing that would help with his final expenses. I contacted my Township Trustee (who I know very well) to handle getting him cremated. I then started a GoFundMe, so he could have a place with his mom, grandma and grandpa. Thankfully the generosity was enough to cover all of the actual expenses and get my best friend a marker that he would even be proud of, with his beloved WWE logo on it.

This is a draft the place just sent me the other day. The boys decided on some minor changes. It’s the least I could do for the person I knew literally all of my life.

Then, 2 days after the death of my best friend my stepbrother also passed away. Our parents married when I was 6. I looked up to him from day 1. While we were never close, he was always an influence. He was the person that let me know my dad had died. Dad and him always had a contemptuous relationship, and it bothered Shan that he didn’t try to see the good in my dad.

He was one of the first people I called about Mike passing, as they were good friends. We had talked about going to a concert together. He and I saw the Rolling Stones in Chicago in June, just different shows. It turns out that’ll be the closest thing I’ll get to going to a show with my stepbrother.

Epilogue

With so much loss, for the first time in my life I’m seriously considering packing it all up and going elsewhere. The only question at this time is where that place will be. I need to stay somewhat close since Amelia is still in school, but the opportunities are open for many places. I need new experiences with new places, and new walls that don’t haunt me.

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