Heart of Glass

Somehow the days have slipped by spinning in this vortex of experience wrapped amongst the subcultures of life that have no real definition or tangible existence if only like portals of time appearing at moments in time, so quickly erased by the morning sun bleeding through light colored curtains, out of focus Las Vegas strip hotels. I have to be somewhere, takes a bit of time to work through the fog of uncontrollable excessive behavior that responsiblily clings to me like burning jellied naplam eating its way through the skin into the marrow of my own sanity. Already late for work, might as make head down to the production room to await the questions, the curiosity, and semi constant pleads to discuss the events of the previous night.

Though, it seems the bigger question on the minds of those who know a bit about my private life are wondering how my recent breakup with a girlfriend of ten years is effecting me physically and mentally. As if there is suppose to be some sort of mental breakdown, all this emotional puking that has become so prolific on the Hollywood big screens. Maybe it might have something to do with how people have handled their own breakups in the past, admittedly, the couple of breakups in my younger twenties felt more like inner body organ dissections without all the drugs and knockout gas, yet now nearing forty, the entire thought of getting worked up over someone who I more than likely appeased, played along with, and looked the other way with a genuine streak of juvenille behavoir that would more than likely never change, a human being who would rather avoid the harsh realities of adulthood to return to the safe naive state of childhood.

Everyone seems so shocked casual reaction to the dissolution of my last relationship. Agreed, it was ten years long, nearly a quarter of my life, but after already fucking up the first thirty years what was another time, if only to come to a point of realization that after having paid for all my actions of my twenties, marriage, children, and divorce along with a thousand other demons swirling around in my head and not that those demons have be completely come to terms with in any form. I am now old enough not to dwell on the actions of others, but to acknowledge what needs to happen in my life in order to make feel worthwhile or to have someone in it who can connect with all the variety, depth, and aptitude that has been compressed into this grey matter of my brain, no more pretending, just to get regular sex, somewhere safe to layup in until I could get my shit together, and falling into a cruise control mentality of not caring wrapped up in a little package of playing like school grade children.

The breakup did not bother me, just the reactions of the people who felt the need to console me offer some sort of advice or empathetic stories that might make feel a little less devistated when in fact I am very relieved in order to get my own life into gear, without having to waist my time encouraging a person who more than content to never amount to anything than average. But back to the sob crew, why do I really care how this relationship ended, she broke it off with me in a manner I expected that she might be hoping for some emotional sort of reaction from me, tears, saddness, some form of emotional leverage she could use to put the final nails in my head for always being one step ahead of her when all she ever wanted to do was be right and have the last world, while waiting for mommy and daddy's checks to roll in. I just told her I did not care, had no feelings at all, after spending the last six or seven years maybe more totally devoid of any sort of real emotion at, this person I felt was never capable of genuine emotion too scared to give up control of herself for reasons she will have to dump upon the next person she looks to twist into her little playhouse.

As for me, most of my friends were fairly shocked about my uncaring attitude in regards to this breakup, why, I had no longer any desire to invest energy into someone who offered nothing in return who soaked up their time in petty endeavors in order to avoid taking on any real challenges. I am actually relieved this mind, this heart, can be free again, can not feel trapped or beyond relation of anyone on the planet. There are so many people who have great things to offer, personality goes a long way, but for plenty fear of rejection scares it out right from them leading to a narrow calculated, logical, but moreover insane frame of mind. My real smile has returned and after meeting someone who I could connect with made me feel so new, so reborn, like a teenager's first kiss, so innocent and so new, beyond all the pornography, debauchery, and drunken college sex years.

My heart is not of glass or stone, either angry or fragile, just pumping with blood and the knowledge to when to walk away from something, forgiving, looking forward to the future and something more of a brief kick in the ass to get at the things that I really want to which do not include living some comfortable life with someone who is afraid of me and does desire to have anything to do with me in any capacity, sleeping their life away, a fate not for myself. At lunch, local bar, a friend from the past who is a cocktail waitress attempts to employ some sort of sympathy tactics after the explainations of how this break up went down. Why bother, is it ultimately necessary to have this gross endeavor of closure, true there have been a few days when the sadness might have gotten to a point which made me feel suicidial, off to binge on drugs, or just put a gun to my head, but why, what is the point, I have been given my life back, a life I should have reclaimed many decades ago.