Tuesday, December 31, 2019


The night before New Years Eve a dusting of snow covered the ground.  The Gymnast came over, late as usual.  The sex with her is good.  She does not lift my spirits, though.  I want more.

New Years eve the snow flurries continued throughout the day without any accumulation.  It was a bitter cold day.  I forced myself to Walmart to pick up a few things.  Once I got home I made myself some broccoli and noodles.  My stomach didn't care for them though and it bothered me for several hours after eating.

All my tests are coming back negative.   My gallbladder is fine.  I do not have an ulcer or acid reflux but something is still very wrong.

In the beginning of 2019 Billy and I were looking at houses and talking about moving.  We were making plans for the future.  What a difference a year makes.  What a difference a few months make.

Before Thanksgiving I thought I was making progress.  Now I feel like life is at its lowest.  I took my health for granted.  I bragged I was the healthiest in the family.  I don't even have that anymore.

Will 2020 bring better times?  I  need to find my way again.  It would be easier if I was healthy.  I wish I could erase Billy from my thoughts.  My resolution, is to try.

Friday, December 27, 2019


Each day away from Billy feels like I am being punished.  I want to hold her tight, cry into her shoulder and not let her go.  That has not happened.  Friday before Christmas my stomach was hurting pretty bad.  I tore the house apart looking to see if I could find any dope Billy may have left behind.  Even though I looked through the couch before that is where I found remnants of her.  There was a rolled up twenty dollar bill in the cushions.  It was her preferred tool for snorting dope and under the couch there was a rolled up ball of dis-guarded foil and and one pack of dope. 

I consulted her over text messages.  "If it is white then it is the strong stuff."  She texted me.  She meant it was fentanyl.

I placed a few granules under my tongue to take the edge off the pain.  The shit is strong but I am careful.  My stomach pain has subsided some since then.  I keep it at bay with heavy doses of Mylanta.  It is the only thing that seems to help.  All the testing has come back negative.  Perhaps I am doing this to myself.

I did not text Billy during the holiday.  The memories are fading but I miss her presence.  There is no going back.  I thought I did not want to go back.  Now I am not so sure.

Wednesday, December 18, 2019

The Gymnast II

The Gymnast says hello as she comes through the garage door.  She is getting comfortable around my house.  This is what I want.  The cat takes off in fear as the Gymnast appears.  The cat hides in the basement so well I cannot find her.  She does the now when ever anyone comes over.  I am beginning to wonder if she would come out if Billy came for a visit.

The Gymnast has thin shoulder length blonde hair.  The last four inches are lighter than the rest.  The result of having it colored long ago.  She is soft spoken but a hustler who has taken care of herself since the age of fourteen.  She is young, twenty-one.  My age does not seem to bother her.  Our arrangement works for both of us.  I like the Gymnast.  We are comfortable together but I do not have to worry about developing romantic feelings for her.  My warped sense of what is okay knows better than that.

She is wearing a full length black Calvin Klein winter coat over black work pants and a yellow sweat shirt.   To me she seems bulky when she is in clothes but when she is naked there is no denying her perfect figure.  I have spent to many years with Billy.  Billy has always been under weight.  Her body has given me false expectations of what a girl should look like.

We exchange just a few words of conversation before moving upstairs, not because I am anxious to have sex with her, but since Billy left I spend seventy percent of my time in my bedroom.  I just find it more comfortable.  The Gymnast Removes her clothes and crawls under the covers.  She complains that the bed is cold.  I strip down and join her.

"Do me a favor,"  I tell her.  "Take out your belly rings"  She doe not argue.  She already knows I like belly buttons and those rings just hide them.

The Gymnast has firm B cup breast with pierced inverted nipples.  She has several tattoos on here body.  The all tend to the morbid.  There is a large set of roses hiding a skull on her upper abdomen with the words "Live To Die" beneath.  A small pair of angel wings are on her right side ribs and a large floral pattern adorns the outside of her right upper thigh.  Several more are scattered over other areas of her body.  My favorites are on the backs of her hands.  They are clever pieces.  On her left is the lower portion of a skull.  On her right is a wide joker inspired grin with red lips.  They are done in such a way that when she places her hand over her mouth the tattoo completes her face.

I debate whether to turn on a movie or to pull out the new vibrator I bought for us (her idea).  The vibrator wins out.  I  know she is more likely to fall asleep if we start watching a movie.  I bring out the new toy and we try out the various settings.  She admits to me she is a horny girl and has one at home.  Watching her passion swell quickly get me going and soon I am inside her.

She likes to make out will we are having sex.  I find it unusual considering we are not lovers and I am paying her to be there. It is the kind of detail that blurs the lines of our arrangement.  Sex with the Gymnast is good.  We do not have feelings for each other but the same comfort I spoke of early makes it easy to be open naked and open with her.

Late after we are spent she curls up next to me to watch the Matrix.  She has never seen it.  The bed is no longer cold.  Her body where it touches mine is almost to hot to be next too.  Half way through the movie she is rolling over and closing her eyes.

In the morning I am up before her.  I stroke her soft skin beneath the covers before leaving her in the bed and starting my day  I would like to stay in bed with her but I have a doctor's appointment.  I go downstairs and make a decaf cup of coffee and return to jump into the shower.  She is dressed and sitting in bed when I get out.

"I'm sorry.  Did I wake you?"  She gives me a coy like that says I did.

"I have to do Christmas shopping today anyway."

"You have a little time.  I need to eat something before I go to the doctor.  Breakfast is one of the meals that never gives me pain."  I tell her.

We head downstairs.  I make her a cup of coffee.  She sits on the couch and scrolls through her phone while I make myself breakfast.  "I made an piece of bacon for you."  I say, but she declines.  she has decided she is going to go home and back to sleep before shopping.

We leave moments apart.  I get to my doctors on time.  When the doctor gets to the room we discuss all of my symptoms and the test I have already had.  He still thinks it is my gallbladder.  This was my initial theory too but the specialist had me doubting myself and thinking maybe a food allergy.  He schedules another test.  This one will induce a gallbladder issues if they are present.  Sounds like fun.  It is on the twenty-seventh.  So my Christmas vacation will be filled with more pain and I will probably end up getting my gallbladder out after the first of the year when all me deductibles rollover.  Life is not fair!

Monday, December 16, 2019


I have been having stomach issues for about three weeks now.  They crept up on me suddenly.  I suppose I was ignoring earlier signs.  I tend to ignore symptoms. At fifty-five everything hurts sometime or other.  I wound up in the ER a few times and at a specialists office.  The specialist was an ass.  After several tests they found nothing major.  Just some moderate irritation of the stomach and small intestine.

I find it hard to believe moderate irritation has been sending me to the ER and keeping up every night in pain.  The tests do not offer any alternatives.  So much for my high pain tolerance.  I reached out to Billy last week.  Frustrated and in pain she is all I wanted.  I cannot explain why.  The comfort I guess.  Right now she is less tangible to me than Ross or the Gymnast.  But the relationships I have with Rose and the Gymnast are superficial, based on sex and money.

The stomach issues have set me back.  I felt like I was making progress.  Expanding my mind and getting over the past.  Now I am not so sure.  I have hated the holidays ever since the divorce.  I find myself alone, emotional and in pain this year.  Just another crappy ending to a crappy year.

Monday, December 2, 2019

The Gymnast

I found the Gymnast on Seeking Arrangements.  Another disappointing site where you can even seem to pay for what you want.  We arranged to meet at a dive bar that was conveniently located for both of us.

I arrived first.  There was a group of regulars around a pool table in the back and a couple more regulars at the bar.  Someone was feeding the jukebox eighties metal selections.  I did not dare select anything.  My music tastes tend not to be for the bar crowd.  I was on my second beer before the Gymnast arrived with a friend in tow.  The Gymnast is young (21 yrs old).  She is a mix of good girl and bad girl that I like.  She is blond and reminds me of Billy with the fifteen extra pounds that gives her a healthy look.  She coaches kids gymnastics and works at a bar in Royal Oak.  She is covered with tattoos, some of them dark. 

Her friend is also young.  Ironically the friend goes to the same yoga studio as me.  She is in a mixed levels class, so we haven't crossed paths but we discuss meeting up to do so.  The friend is darker complected and reminds me of Tinkerbell.

The girls order drinks and we talk at the bar.  The Gymnast is refreshingly open and candid.  She has one of those hard life stories that sucks me right in.  Her father died when she was fourteen.  Her mother took little responsibility.  Her ex-boyfriend recently overdosed and died.

I like her.  She would be the perfect distraction for the holidays.  I am not talking about a relationship.  She is a paid companion but she is natural and I can be myself around her.  We decide to meet the following night after gymnastics practice. 

The next night she is late.  I feel like that is just one thing I will need to expect with her.  When she arrives, she is dressed in leggings and a bright blue tee with her name across the back under the word coach.  We sit and talk about ourselves.  We are both open books and we discuss the twisted things in our pasts.  She is depressed.  Her ex's death was this week and she is till processing it.

I tell her, "This arrangement is what you make of it.  If you want to go to a concert or a play, I will make it happen.  If you just want to come over and hangout that is okay too."

Later when we go up stairs, It is initially awkward but she is at ease and I am soon at attention.  The sex is good.  She has firm small breast with pierced nipples.  She says she pierced them because her nipples are inverted but it didn't really help.  She is surprisingly affectionate during the sex.  Something you don't always see in these situations.  It tends to blur the lines between relationship and arrangement but I like it when things are a bit blurred.

I'd like to see her again but it has been hard to pull her out of her depression.  We are on opposite sides of the pendulum but both dealing with our own issues.  I am hoping we can brighten each others lives up during this season of misery.  Time will tell.

Monday, November 25, 2019

The Hippie

I meet the Hippie on the POF (Plenty of Fish) dating site.  She is a divorced mom of a 19 yr old and 7 yr old.  The hippie is forty-three, twelve years younger than me but sixteen years older than Billy.  She lives near where I work and she works nights at a nearby auto assembly plant.  She is petite and a bit plan.

Ironically the Hippie and Billy share the same first name.  At least that prevents me from making any slips.  We met for lunch at a local Coney Island.  The conversation flowed well.  She has a few quirks.  She tends to flash the peace sign in a salute when making a comic point.

We went out a second time on Sunday, another lunch.  I find myself picking the Hippie apart.  Her lack of fashion sense, two baby daddies and the weird mole on her forehead.  In actuality she is a nice person and she does seem to like me.  After three hours with her on Sunday, I found myself wanting to go home and watch Star Wars movies.  I am just not ready.

This morning I was overcome by a deep sorry.  I miss my relationship with Billy.  I feel like I am racing to replace her.  "She has moved on.  I need to show I can move on also."  But neither the Hippie or Rose are really making me happy.  They make me sad.

Monday, November 18, 2019

Rose and a Weekend Update

Rose strolls through the door wearing the exercise outfit we bought on our shopping excursion.  She has a pink top on over the sports bra.  "I am not used to you wearing a bra," I would tell her later as I groped her while we lay spooning on the couch.  Rose is an enigma.  Usually her stories are a mixture of truths and lies.  She is intentionally deceptive but not maliciously so as far as I can tell.

It is safe to assume she only thinks of me when she needs a new outfit or is in need of money but the truth is probably less cut and dry.  I find with people like Rose the first thing she thinks about is keeping her head above water and navigating life without the support of stable parental figures.

There are a few facts that I do know.  She has a younger sister who is pregnant (I have met her a couple of times) and a brother.  She is close to her sister and is looking forward to having a niece to pamper.  She works out and is proud of her accomplishments with her body.  She is down to 12% body fat but not in an unhealthy way like Billy.  Rose's ass and thighs are firmer than mine.
She believes she thinks differently than others.  I believe she does too.  I think she would rate high on a sociopath test.  My cats seems to like her though Rose's reaction to the cats need for affection is one of amusement.

She curl up next to me.  She is willing to sleep with me. Rose likes to be dominated but sex with her is not as fulfilling as it was with Billy.  There is no love, it lacks intimacy.

The weekends are still hard for me.  Often I do not feel like getting out of bed.  I text Billy this weekend.  She says she still feels awful about everything.  I know feeling awful and feeling like you made a mistake are two different things.  Regardless, I can not take her back and that is the worst part.  I am adrift-- again. The analogy says I was in a house of darkness while I was with Billy and each of us was struggle to provide what little light we had.  The world outside is full of light (love).   I am not outside in this light yet.  I feel like I am struggling between trying to pull some new into the darkness and taking that first step into the light.

The answer to fulfillment is an elusive goal.  The books easily describe what I am doing wrong but they make living life correctly sound like a long and lonely path with a reward that is not tangible.

Thursday, November 14, 2019


I pulled into the driveway at the address she provide me in her email.  The brick ranch showed signs of age on the outside.  A snow covered Ford focus is parked in the driveway.  She opens the door as I approached.   She is younger than she appeared in her photo and prettier, with curly blond shoulder length hair and a wide comforting smile.

Once inside she has me take off my shoes.  She is dressed in a long sweater over purple and pink leggings and matching purple and pink wool socks.  I am in jeans and a faded red pullover. 

On the inside the house looks freshly remodeled.  The furniture is comfortable and new. There is incense or a scented candle burning and native american music is playing. I am here for a shamanic healing and she is my shaman.  I sit cross legged on the couch and she mirrors my pose on a chair opposite me.  She explains what she will be doing.  She is going off on a spirit journey to clear my chakras and restore balance.

I sit crossed legged and meditate while she is on her journey.  They atmosphere is conducive to meditation.  I find myself in a deeper state than ever before. Images and colors pass before my mind but disappear when I try to focus on them.

Twenty minutes late she is explaining what she did.  She was directed to do a spiritual body dismemberment and to heal each chakras outside the spiritual body.  She says she has never been instructed to do a dismemberment before.  She tells me I was a samurai in a past life and was instructed me to remind me of my power.  My spirit animal is a red dragon. Which is coincidentally what I have tattooed on the left side of my chest and what I painted for my bedroom when I moved into the condo many years ago.

She recommended a book, The Way of the Peaceful Warrior.  I have started reading it and it falls in line with much I have already been reading.  I am not sure how much faith I have in her journey but it was worth keeping an open mind and I do feel different today, stronger.

Monday, November 11, 2019


Rose texted me Sunday morning and pulled me out of my hibernation. "You should come shopping with me and tell me what looks good!!!"

"I was just going to ask if you wanted company,"  I replied.  I needed to get out.  Rose is easy on the eyes and easy to be around. 

We made plans to meet at an outlet mall.  I arrived on time.  Rose was an hour late.  Her tardiness allowed me to get me steps in for the day.  "I have to remember when you say noon you mean one,"  I tell her when she finally arrives. 

"I know.  I will be late for my own funeral,"  she tells me, "like Elizabeth Taylor."

"Is she dead?"

Rose looks at me side-long, unsure if I am kidding with her.  "Yes, she delayed her funeral by fifteen minutes."  I did not know.

Rose was looking for workout clothes.  "I have been around this place three times so I can tell you which stores look promising but my sense of direction is bad so we will probably end up walking in circles."  I tell her as we start walking.

I am wearing jeans and a tee with the same light jacket/ heavy shirt I wore through the whole trip to China.  Rose was also dressed in jeans, a burnt orange light puffy jacket over a mustard shirt and black ankle boots with a four inch heal.

Conversation comes easy between Rose and I.  The more time we spend with each other the more our guards come down.  She talks about her weight training and an up coming photo shoot she is doing on Monday for a portfolio.  She wants to do modeling work.  She definitely could be.  She has a great body and large blue eyes. 

We end up picking up a few things in the Under Armor store.  She buys two outfits and some shoes while I buy a pair of pants.  "What size shoe do you wear?" 

I hand her a seven and she tries it on.  She decides she might need a half size bigger.  I press on her toe and tell her the seven and a half seem to fit.  I make a joke about her large feet, because I can get away with it.  There is nothing large or out of place on her.  "I had to kick her out of bed.  Her feet were just too over bearing when we played footsie."

When end our shopping spree at a near by Qdobas.  Rose is mostly vegetarian and eating clean.  She is trying to put on more muscle.  My fear is she will add too much. She looks perfect now.   We sit across from each other and talk about mindfulness, meditation, and things considered alternative.  She is into a lot of the things I am exploring right now.  I pause in our conversation and regard her.  "You are so pretty,"  I tell her and at that moment she was, with her long blonde her framing her features.

"Now you are making me blush."  She did not seem to be blushing.  I always assume a pretty girl knows the effect she has on a man.

I could have spent more time with her but I did not want overdue it.  It is better to leave things on a high note I am learning. Besides we have plans for her to come over Wednesday night weather permitting.  Right now snow is falling .

There is a platonic nature to our encounters.  I have not figured out if it is her guarded nature or if she is just not attracted to me.  For now, I am assuming the latter.  Rose was abused as a child and an adult.  She would trust me with her life long before she would trust me with her heart.  She does trust me.  Which I am sure is something she does not say about many people. 

Right now I do not want to get consumed by another relationship.  The break up with Billy hurt me deeply.  Rose keeps her distance.  Right now that is what I need.  Still our encounters fuel me.  They make me happy.  They preoccupy my mind and keep thoughts of Billy at bay and that is what I need right now.

Friday, November 8, 2019

What Would You Do?

Tinkerbell: breakups are rarely because someone doesn't love that person anymore but I would hate to see you make yourself miserable and delay the healing process hoping that she comes back.

Me: I don't hope she comes back but it is like losing two people.  You lose the lover and the friend.

I feel like life is downing me, like I am trying to keep my head above some invisible wave.  I am reaching out to self-help videos, yoga, books and people like life supports.  When I sit back and look around life has not changed.  I have the same job and the same friends.  Only one person is gone from my life and that makes things easier, not harder.

I miss Billy I tell myself, but that is not exactly true.  I miss her presence when I come home but I can hang out with friends.  I miss her soft skin and cuddling up next to her but I can find that with Rose or another girl.

The real problem is I feel alone and exposed.  Exposed!  Billy was my little security blanked and I could curl up with her and hide from the world in a comfortable cocoon of stagnation.  I am exposed to new experiences like yoga and new people and they are all pushing against my issues and it frightens me.  It is this fear I need to release.  This is what they mean when they say let go and live life.  What would you do if you were not afraid?  

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

Where Are You Going

Where are you going, where do you go?
Are you looking for answers to questions under the stars?
Well, if along the way you are growing weary,
You can rest with me until a brighter day
And you're okay

I am no Superman
I have no answers for you
I am no hero, oh that’s for sure
But I do know one thing
Is where you are, is where I belong
I do know, where you go is where I wanna be
--Where are you going, Dave Mathews Band

It his been two weeks since I last texted with Billy.  It seems like an age.  She is fading from my memory.  I am creating this new life but I have not begun to fill the void she left behind.  Life moves on but is it better?  The books I read say so.  It is hard to believe some unseen brilliance from within can be better than running my fingers along her porcelain skin.

I do not have a good long term memories for things.  I do not remember much from before my divorce.  I do not know if it is a defense mechanism or if everyone is that way. I do know we have a tendency to reconstruct memories over time.  We fill in the gaps with false details.  I have a hundred blog post about Billy and I, journaled when they occurred.  I am sorry I did not chronicle more of the good times. 

I have spent my live building up defensive walls inside but I cannot protect myself from pain.  I went to great lengths to pull Billy into my life.  I went to great lengths to keep her there.  I thought it would make me happy, that being with her would make me feel loved and safe. 

I cannot find the energy within me.  Is there room for the hopeless romantic within the untethered soul?  I am posting these lyrics here to prevent myself from sending them to her.  Where she goes, is where I want to be.  That is not realistic anymore.  It never was-- but it makes for a beautiful song.

Where are you going, where do you go?
Tell me, where are you going, where?

Let’s go. 

Monday, November 4, 2019

Mall Rats

Sunday Sam and I went to the Twelve Oaks mall. It is a fifty minute drive away.  The crowds at this mall would make you believe that online commerce is not affecting business.  Unlike the malls that are closer to us, this mall is busy.  I drove, Sam declined and instead took on the role of backseat navigator. I was not bothered by her need to direct our route.  I think my navigation skills are declining with age.  I used to let Billy drive when we went up north.  She like to drive and I preferred to control the songs on the radio. 

I was in a bad mood.  Too much time on the weekends to brood.  I was fixated on Ten year old Ford Escapes (Billy's car).  I see them everywhere and even though I know Billy is not the driver it gets my mind going.  The audio version of the Untethered Soul helped me focus and recenter myself today.

At the mall I managed to buy several things, a pair of casual shoes, a pair of jeans, a pair of dress pants and several shirts.  Some of the shirts were so cheap I thought about buy duplicates!  I mean who can pass up a David Bitton Buffalo shirt for $8!

"This is how my life usually goes," I tell Sam as we walked toward the mall entrance.  "I'll be shopping and suddenly there Billy will be with her pack of man haters."  The pack of man haters include her mom, her aunt (mom's twin) and her cousin (aunt's daughter). 

"What do you mean?"

"Remember I told you about the girl long ago I was infatuated with who rejected me?  One day I am shopping at Lakeside in the mens department and I look up and WHAM, she is on the other side of a clothes rack from me.  She wasn't even married at the time."

We did not see Billy.  I was actually able to forget her for a while.  Spending money on myself is more therapeutic then spending it on her.

I have four vacation days left this year.  I do not have any vacation plans and there is only seven work weeks left for me this year.  I could use the vacation days to create long weekends but weekends are hard.  I will have to save one or two for doctor appointments for dad.  Perhaps I can talk Rose into going on a long weekend somewhere.

Friday, November 1, 2019


I pulled up to Tinkerbell's condo at 5:45 pm.  Her unit was dark.  She was out dropping off The T-Rex.   He was trick or treating with friends in a nearby neighborhood.  Tink pulled up minutes later and hopped into the Jeep.  She came down with Bells Palsy syndrome ten days ago.  The right side of her face went numb and she was unable to move that side of her face.  Her face is beginning to show signs of life now but it has not returned to normal.

She put eye drops into her right eye as I pulled out onto the road.  She originally wanted me to sign as a witness on her end of life documents but decided I should be a second.  Her boyfriend is first.  She is not talking to her family at the moment.  That usually changes, just like our arguments never last.  

The past three years Billy and I would create costumes and go to my brother's house for Halloween.  The day has me feeling sad.  My emotions are controllable, but still just below the surface.  I find myself wondering what Billy is doing this Halloween and if she is thinking about are times dressing up.  Those days are gone.  Will they ever return?  Am I too old for Halloween?

Tink and I decide on Noodles.  The restaurant is empty on the Halloween night. We order food and sit in a dimly lit area.  Bright light hurts her palsy restricted eye.  She tell me the T-Rex is still afraid of Halloween stores.  She is reminding me of the time we went to the Halloween store on one of our many adventures. 

The T-Rex is a teenager now.  Our adventure days are over.  "I told you, you should have had another one when you had the chance,"  I tell her.  She disagrees. 

 We finish our food and make are way to Mejiers the local all in one store.  Tinkerbell wants to pick up dish washing soap.  I want to look at yoga mats.  The mat I bought for my first day at yoga was too think.  The mats at Mejiers are all pink and purple in color.  I want something more neutral so we decide to go across the street to Target.  

It is like the type of adventure we would have in the past but it is missing that spark of fun.  Perhaps it was my mood or the rainy cold weather.  Here is a story from Halloween past.

Originally Post 9-9-2010
Everyday Adventure

Our days start off with cool mornings now. Before we know it will be fall, but for now the afternoons still get comfortably warm. Most days lately Tinkerbell, the T-Rex and I wind up together. Sometimes it is planned, mostly it is not. Last weekend we traveled the pseudo past of the Michigan Renaissance Festival. It was the first time for the T-Rex. I'm not sure if he was impressed.

Monday it was court, where Tink was trying to restrict visitation from her baby-daddy. She had pretty good cause but the referee did not agree. He denied her motion. We picked up the T-Rex and drowned or sorrows in coney dogs, hamburgers and ice cream.

Tuesday's adventure started out as a simply picking up a cat carrier for "Gary", their cat, who got fixed today. We ended up shopping for Halloween costumes also. Tink bought this white dress with gold accents supposed to be a "goddess" costumes. It looks very hot on her. The big debate was on what type of underwear she was going to wear with it. The dress is very short and will show her ass off during the evening. I think she is more worried about pantie lines than exposing her ass.

"Victoria's Secret could label one of their slips 'goddess' and sell the same thing," I tell her.

The T-Rex did not want to go into any the Halloween stores. He is not very brave when it comes to monsters. We dragged him in anyway. He asked us not to press any buttons (that might activate any of the decorations). We ignored that suggestion too.

I told the T-Rex today his going to school was cutting into our adventuring. I'm glad my work doesn't. Though one day I'm going to find myself out of a job or actually working a job-- either would suck.

Wednesday, October 30, 2019


Is there something more?  I have signed up for a yoga class.  I am reading books on mindfulness and meditation.  I am seeing the relationship with Billy for what it was.  I miss her less each day.  The void left behind has always been there.  I am trying to fill it from within.  I no long want to conform to my construct of life.

The weather here is unseasonably cold and wet.  Tomorrow is Halloween.  They expect snow.  Yes snow,  on Halloween.  This evening is Devil's Night though I do not expect many devils to be out after dark with the temperatures hovering in the mid forties.  Traffic on the way home is heavy people trying to get home for holiday functions I imagine.  I leave work early also.  I am going to my first yoga class.

I have passed the studio a thousand times.  It is on the edge of a strip mall. The word yoga is in bright inviting neon letters above the door.  It gets good reviews on Yelp.  It seems to be a family run business.  There is an bearded gentleman in his sixties behind the counter.  He explains the basics to me.  The instructor is a solidly built woman around forty.  She has short blond hair and is wearing sweat pants and a tank top.  Her outfit is casual and not worn to impress.

There are a dozen women and one other man in the class.  All of them are dressed casually.  The instructor is friendly.  The names for the positions are unfamiliar to me but the moves are not out of reach. I have decided to stick with it for the rest of the year.  Perhaps I can advance to a different level.

Monday, October 28, 2019

Boring Updates

I am trying to live in the moment.  It can be difficult.  I have been going out with friends.  I don't enjoy bars.  When looking back at the evenings I find them unremarkable.  Sam, Alexis and I went to a local bar Saturday night.  It was loud.  Sam spent most of her time swiping left on Alexis' Tinder account.  Sam doe not have her own.  Sam does not date.

Alexis finds Sam's lack of desire for a relationship bizarre.  It does not surprise me though.  She has been hurt and does not put any effort into dating.  Sam seemed to be trying to sell me on her tenant and friend Lynne.  Sam and I went to the funeral of Lynne's husband Sunday.  While I do think Lynne is attractive, I think she will be in mourning for a bit.

Thursday, October 24, 2019

A Conversation

Billy texted me today.  I guess she saw my email.  She did not say. 

Billy: I hope you are doing okay, Bathwater.  Give Sienna (the cat) a hug for me and hope your trip to China was okay.

Me: I emailed you. It was during a bad day but yes I am okay.  Everyone here is doing good as can be.

Billy: Dad okay?

Me: The trip to China was hard.  I had a hard time focusing on the moment.  dad is in assisted living and physically doing good, just waiting to see what the cancer does.  I miss you Billy.  I hope you are doing good.

Billy: I'm doing alright.

Me: Just alright?

Billy: Yeah, trying to figure things out for myself is pretty stressful.

Me: I have faith in you and I am still here supporting you in my thoughts.

The conversation was a start at healing the breach between us.  It did not ruin my day.  The emotions it stirred rose within me but I was able to release.  I am still moving on.

Wednesday, October 23, 2019

The Good and The Bad-- Samples From the Past

I am working on turning my old blog posts into a novel.  The first hundred pages were simple.  The narrative revolved around Tinkerbell and I.  I have plenty more material that focuses on Billy and I.  There is good and bad.  Below are samples of both but understand these are old post. The last five years Billy and I had a mostly stable relationship but it was hell getting there.

Originally posted Sunday, August 21, 2011

Cheap Chinese

"We have to stop, so I can go pee," she says.

I point out a convenient White Castle up ahead, "go there."

"Was that the entrance?" She asks as we pass the driveway.

"That's okay just pull into the exist like you usually do," I tell her.

"My driving doesn't scare you does it? You wouldn't be sitting in the car if it did."

"I don't pay attention, I keep my eyes focused on the pretty girl sitting next to me." Billy always looks pretty to me.

After the pit stop, we get back into her Explorer and she pulls out into traffic. We swoop up on the tail of another car. "Look at the girl, not at the traffic. Look at the girl, not at the traffic," I start repeating like a mantra and she laughs.

She doesn't like spicy food, she says it makes her sweat, but that doesn't seem to stop her from ordering it. We share a meal of glazed chicken and fried rice. The food is in a carry out tray on the console between us. We share the fork and pick at the broccoli with our fingers, occasionally feeding each other pieces of chicken.

These nights are special to us. The brief moments, the minutes that change the course of the whole day. When I get home I get a text message, "I am exhausted but my insides are still smiling." It refers to how good spending time with me makes her feel. 

Originally posted Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Rock Bottom
It is a post no one wants to hear.  I am documenting it because I want to keep a written record of what has been happening.

Friday night I picked Billy and her new room mate (Lauren) up from the strip club after work.  We dropped Lauren of at the motel and Billy came home with me.

Billy was energetic.  She stayed up till 7:00 am cleaning and primping herself.  Her actions and her fitful sleeping that night told me she was doing crack or coke and not heroin.  Probably because she did not have enough money for heroin.

Billy was exhausted the next day even though I let her sleep in past 1:00 p.m. She even napped an extra hour on the couch after waking.  I took her back to her motel so she could work.  I tried to make her see the light.  She was at rock bottom (or so I thought).  She wanted me to believe she liked living day to day.  "When are you going to stop?" I asked her.

"When the consequences are worse then the dope."

She never made it to work that night and Sunday was Easter the club was closed.  I had plans to watch The T-Res for Tinkerbell Sunday.  I warned Billy she was going to be in trouble and that I wasn't going to help her out.

She was dope sick by Sunday and begging for help on Monday. Suddenly, "things are beginning to get old", she tells me.

I went to see her Monday after multiple pleas for help.  Their motel is a one room upper unit.  Their drug dealer conveniently lives downstairs.  The girls share a bed.  There is a card table with two folding chairs,  a dresser and a refrigerator in the main area.  Billy came outside to talk with me.  I noticed a shiny new black Chrysler 200 parked next to me.  At first I thought it belonged to Lauren's customer. 

When I questioned Billy about the car she said it was Lauren's friend but I figured it out.  It was Kevin's the same addict friend that has been hanging on Billy for over a year.  He was the one who shot her up and missed the vein.  He was the one that took her in when I kicked her out after her second failed rehab stay.  I warned her if I saw him I was going to beat his ass.  Billy didn't take me seriously.  I'm not violent by nature.

Billy went to the drug dealers room.  I went up to her room.  Lauren was at the door.  I slid past her.  Kevin was sitting in one of the flooding chairs one the table was a gross collection of drug paraphernalia, dirty needles, a burnt spoon, a small metal container for holding coke.

I crossed over to Kevin, grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the wall.  "I am sick and tired of seeing your drug addicted ass around Billy. "  I raised my fist.  "You loose her fucking number you understand me!"

"There is no need to get violent."  He croaked out.

  My fingers were digging into his neck. I wanted to take out my frustration on his face. "Yes there is, "  I squeezed his neck harder and pressed his head deeper into the corner of the wall.  He was like a rag doll in my grip.  "You are lucky I don't beat your ass right now."  My blood was pumping and I pulled a punch.  "Loose her number.  If I see you have been around her again I will beat your ass next time." 

Kevin picked up his earphones that had fallen out of his ears and headed out the door.  I watched from the balcony to make sure he did not try to call or say anything to Billy as he left.  

Lauren had disappeared during the exchange, probably telling Billy what was happening.  She came back upstairs while I was watching Kevin leave. "What was that about?" She asks.

"I'm tired of that asshole hanging around Billy enabling her, I've been wanting to do that for a long time." 

"I've only meet him twice," She expressed her dislike of the guy.  "He came here today trying to get us to hook him up with a dealer."

Billy returned,  "Bathwater you can't be starting shit here."  She didn't seem especially mad.

"I warned you Billy."

"I didn't think you were serious." 

Since that day Billy has lost her job at the club, probably Lauren too.  There are at least a half dozen other strip clubs within a few miles of that motel but there is no money to be made at any of the others.  Lauren's customer paid for the first week at the motel.  He isn't paying anymore.

Billy has an appointment to get on Suboxone Tuesday, but that is a week away.  I have no idea how she will make it till then.  She has at least a $200 a day habit.  Then there is rent and food.  I told her she needs to move back home.  She seems reluctant to leave Lauren.  Lauren needs to go back to her own parents.  I've already refused a request for them to stay with me for a few days.

I've kept my distance as much as I can. I am going back to Mexico next week.  I am hoping she has had enough and is back home with her parents when I return.

Untethered Soul

I have been learning.  Grief is the best motivator to learning about yourself.  I have read a few books recently.  "Attached. The New Science of Adult Attachment...", "The Untethered Soul", and "Running on Empty".  I recommend all three.  None of them have all the answers but they are giving me incite into who I am.

I am working toward becoming more mindful.  I still have more to learn.  I want to release myself from my fears and move beyond grief and pain.  The Untethered Soul has opened my eyes to a new way of thinking about things.  It short on how to achieve some of the things it teaches but it gives me a starting point.

Billy did not respond to my email yet.  I hope she does not see it.  I am in a better place today and would not have sent it.  One thing that has come to me as I have grown older, life is about learning.

Tuesday, October 22, 2019


I blame it on jet lag, Chinese sleep deprivation torture.  Rejection stirs up rejection.  Last night I was supposed to meet a girl off that Seeking website. I picked Fishbones a restaurant that would be equal distance for both of us. I waited an hour. She never showed.  Her text messages went silent.  Her phone went direct to voicemail.  The waitress tried to make light of my discomfort but I was not in the mood for banter.  The waitress was high strung and spewed words like a meth addict.  There was no pause for conversation. 

The need to contact Billy has been strong over the past week.  The trip to China did not help.  Last night I was really low and I emailed her.   I tell myself do not want her back but who can tell what I would do if the opportunity arose. Last night was a struggle.  I wanted her to know I was hurting and maybe I wanted her to hurt a bit too.  Here is what I sent her.

They say i should not talk to you.  They say it will only make things worse.  I am not sure that is possible.  Most days I hate you lately.  Most days I am on the verge of tears.  I think about you all the time.  I see your shadow in every corner of this house.  I cannot erase you.  You loved me so much and it made me whole.  Then you didn't anymore and it hurts me.  My mind pleads with my to reach out to the one who can take away the pain but she does not exist anymore.

I am trying, because that is all I can do.  It is suppose to get easier, but it only seems to get harder.  And there is nothing you can say, and nothing you can do.   I know I'm my heart you still love me.  I know that you miss me.  I like to believe that some days you struggle too. It just doesn't change anything.

But I miss you Billy

Maybe she will not see it.  Maybe it will get buried in the spam that fills her email.  The act of sending her the email was soothing itself.  I don't want to hate her but, I really don't want to talk to her either.

Friday, October 18, 2019

China and Back

So I have been gone a week.  I went to China and back.  We took off from Detroit and landed in Beijing twelve hours later.  The sun chased us across the sky along our journey but the foreboding clouds in the Chinese capital kept the sun at bay.  I do not adjust well to the cultural differences.  I find the lack of personal freedoms and personal space intrusive.  We took a day to visit the Forbidden City.  The crowds were large and rude by western standards.

The rest of my time was spent in Qinhuangdao.  A resort city of the coast of Bo Hai Sea which flows into the Yellow Sea.  My hotel was on the water.  There was a spectacular view from my room on the eighteenth floor.  You looked out onto the water.  Below me were manicured garden paths leading down to a winding boardwalk and beach. 

The weather was mild.  The tourists were gone for the season.  I saw few people on the beach.  It would be a nice spot for a vacation.  But this was a work trip and we spent our days at various manufacturing facilities while taking in a few of the local sites.  There were no woman readily available to entertain businessman.  No bar at the hotel.
My host spent a lot of time trying to feed me.  I was a disappointment.  Food holds no interest for me, especially seafood.  Their seafood is all work.  Giant shrimp with shell tentacles and eyes still intact and small crabs both leave a pile of waste on your plate for little meat. 

I found myself with a lot of alone time.  That is never good.  My thoughts would return to Billy.  On my previous trips to China I would be communicating with her constantly.  I longed to reach out to her.  As time passes I find myself hating her more but missing the relationship we had.  If she were in front of me would I still be able to hate her?  I do not know the answer.  They say time heals all wounds but do you ever get back what you had?

This trip was so uneventful I cannot stretch it into multiple posts.  Yes I stood on the Great Wall.  Yes I saw some interesting things but the shroud over my heart does not allow them to reach me.  I wanted to go home.  I wanted to be free of me thoughts.  I wanted what I no longer had.

I do not like that she still occupies so much of my thoughts and so much of this blog.  I know in my heart she is missing me too.  People have been saying you cannot replace one person with another.  It feel like she has done that.  

Wednesday, October 9, 2019


Rose steps out of her car and enters the house through the garage.  she is wearing a faded pair of jeans a forest green top that faux ties at the waist.  My eyes are drawn to the curve of the her waist and the pale white skin that is exposed there.  She is not wearing a bra. She never wears a bra and I can clearly see the outline of her nipples pressing against the thin material of her top.

We sit on the couch and we talk.  She is content to listen to me ramble.  She is very easy to be around.  She is calculatedly attentive and we caress each others hands and legs while we talk.

I unleash a steady stream of stories while occasionally trying to pull some from her.  She is evasive about herself.  She lies about herself.   She has always lied, because the truth is either too embarrassing or too painful.  I would like to here the truth.  It would not change the way I think of her.  I save each grain of truth she does reveal to slowly paint a complete picture.

"You know everything about me Rose."  I tell her.  "I don't hold anything back. My ex-girlfriend is a heroin addict.  What could be worse than that?  If I killed someone I would probably tell you."

"I would help you bury the body."  She tell me with giggle.  Her remark leads me off into a story about dreams and dead bodies, My story ends in me saying maybe THAT was to much information.

She excuses herself to use the bathroom.  I put on a selection of Dave Mathews Band songs to set the mood.  When she comes back she straddles my lap and sways to the music.  Rose takes off her top and allows me to caress her bare torso.  After a time she stands in front of me and takes off her jeans.  She is wearing a pink lace thong beneath.

She let out light moans as she moves against me.  They are more show than reality, but they have the same affect.  She alternates facing toward me with facing away, and leaning back against me.  Her grinding becomes more intense and I am fully erect.  She allows my hand to slip down between her thighs and now our bodies are moving in unison.  My hands are on her thighs and I hold her tightly against me as I release.

Things slow and we lay on the couch together after.  She is in no hurry to leave.  I lower my voice and continue talking as she closes her eyes.  I tell her I want this to be a place she can go to get away from her drama.  Before she leaves I tell her, "We can work out an arrangement, whatever way makes you comfortable.  You just have to tell me what you want."

Next morning I am reluctant to leave my bed.  I find myself missing Billy more than usual.  My mind begins to compare Rose and Billy.  It is a ridiculous exercise. They are both young and beautiful.  I thought Rose would be a good distraction to shift my thoughts away from Billy. Our physical contact just reminded me what I was missing.

I think about the softness of Billy's skin and I breakdown. The urge to reach out to her was very strong this morning.  I almost gave into the need.  My mind and body are hurting and she is the cure I desperately want but she is out of reach.

Rose is nice and she likes hanging out with me, but Billy loved me once, and I am still grieving the loss of that love.


Sam says I should do whatever it takes to get through these days and I try.  I painted the bedrooms, got new carpets and stripped the house of all things linked to Billy.  That was in September.  I am saving further painting for the winter.  I am trying to meet someone new.   Perhaps I am trying too hard.  I have been texting with a dancer from back when I spent many nights at the Penthouse club.  I was a regular at the club before Billy and I became a steady couple.  It is where I meet Billy.

I have known Rose longer than Billy, but she is still a mystery.  I have always had a soft spot for her.  She is pretty.  One of those people that never ages.  She looks the same at twenty-nine as she did at nineteen.  She is working at Colosseum but the strip clubs in the city are not the same anymore.  The city is cracking down on the clubs.  The city shutdown the Penthouse Club and dancers at Colosseum need to maintain a six inch distance from customers at all times.  "Six inches?"  I comment to her. "I might as well just watch porn."

Rose suggested we could meet up outside the club.  She is coming over tonight.  I pulled this from my achieves in honor of the occasion.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

A Rose By Any Other Name

I am sitting in a corner deep in the back of the club, away from the stage, and away from dancers. I came to talk with my favorite Eastern European Waitress Milla. New at her job she lacks the jaded veneer the club gives a person. She is unsure she has what it takes to make it. She looks the part, like a young Katie Holmes, but still has that deer trapped in the headlights look to her-- of course we were instant friends.

Milla is sitting with me when a school of shot girl piranhas swarm us. Shot girls are the worst money leeches in any strip club. This bar's are exceptionally bad. They can pull $50 out of you before you know where their watered down liquor went. I am trying to politely dismiss them when I see Rose walk down stairs onto the stage. She caught my eye and I wagged a finger at her.

I extract myself from the grip of the shot girls and go to talk to Rose. "You know how many Amish communities I went to looking for you? It's not like I could call them either, because they don't have phones."

"Oh, whatever!" She replies, crouching down beside.

"Not to mention the Armenian mob, I still got bullet holes healing from that and you didn't even send flowers."

She plays along. "I did send flowers your dead neighbor's ghost probably stole them."

She get a smirk out of me. "Seriously, what happened to you?"

She shrugs, her big doe-eyes looking at me straight on. "I don't know."

"Come see me when you get off stage."

She avoided me at first.  It did not make sense. Milla, my waitress, keeps stopping by. I tolt her the whole story between Rose and I earlier. "Don't let it bother you," she said.

I could not help it. "It does. It doesn't make sense. I only know of two girls that really hate me, my ex and that tall dark haired shot girl."

Later I catch Milla and Rose talking by the stairs. I don't know what was said. I wrap my arms around Rose's waist before she can get away. "I was just going that way, " she assures me.

"Sure you were."

We quibble good-natured all the way back to my table in the corner. We talk for a while than I ask her again what happened to her.

"I just freaked out, I got scared. It is not that I didn't want to go, I just freaked. Don't you remember what it was like to be my age?" Her eyes glisten as if on the verge of tears and I fell the sincerity in her words.

I say, "Look I like our whole dancer, customer relationship thing we got going here. You don't have to make false promises to keep me around."

She assures me that is not it. The rest of the night continued very un-dancer like. We go upstairs and continue talking. She asks if I have seem Clash of the Titans yet. I say no, we should go see it. If someone calls me and asks to be taken to the movies, I will make it happen. She says she will, except that she would pay.

As we head back downstairs, she gets called onstage. I hand her some money and say wait I still owe you $20. I did not expect to get dances that night so only had a few dollars in my front pocket. The rest was in my wallet which was buttoned down in my back pocket.

"Forget it." She says.

"No. That's not right."

"I'll come by your table."

She came back to the table but was reluctant to take the money. She said she would text me later and she did. We are supposed to go to the movies this Thursday. So we will see. Those eyes are hard to resist. 

Monday, October 7, 2019

Evil Thoughts

I desperately need a distraction.  I need someone to help take my mind off of Billy.  I am slipping and she is slipping.  I have been good.  I have not text Billy since this text exchange,  but I want to text her.

The psychic said I can tell when Billy is having a bad day without actually talking to her.  Perhaps there is some truth too that.  I know she is broke.  she is down to the last $100 in her bank account with three days till pay day.

I feel so far removed from her.  Is that a cooping mechanism?  I miss lying next to her but I cannot remember how it felt.

I am torn.  Part of me wants her to fail.  Part of me wants her to come running back to me.  I am not sure why.  Fantasies play out in my head.  Billy coming to me for money. Her and I sleeping together.  Me sending a picture of her naked body to her new boyfriend with a the words, "Enjoying your little addict still?  She will never be just yours.  Not while she is using.  Not unless you are willing to support her.  You will never know how many people she is sleeping with, but it won't be just you."

That is something the old me would do.  Back in the early days when Billy and I would fight.  We were mean.  Reading back the words I just typed, I realize I know them to be true because they were true for me.

Why would I want her back?  I do not.  I want them both to hurt.  Like I hurt.

I desperately need a distraction.  Friday I am traveling to China for a week.  I just need to make it to Friday.

Positive affirmation:  "I am the master of my anxiety.  Anxious thoughts will not control my actions."

The Visit

Saturday was a beautiful fall day.  I pulled up into a driveway in the neighborhood of identical condos where my dad has his own.  This driveway belonged to a neighbor.  Mary is an eighty-six year old woman.  She considers my dad one of her best friends.  It is a cute relationship.

Mary is still getting ready when I arrive.  She is adds the final touch of hair spray and puts on a sweater.  She is in good spirits.  She has not seem my dad in over a month.  I escort her out to the Jeep.  The height of my lifted vehicle is our first obstacle.  She cannot lift her legs high enough to get in the passenger seat.  "Do you think the back will be easier?"  She asks.

"I don't think so, Mary. Give me a second, I'll be right back."  I take off toward my fathers house at quick trot and return with a grey plastic step.  This gives her the six inches she needs to get into the Jeep.

She asks if we can stop at the Krispy Kreme to pick up some donuts.  "Your father likes donuts you know."

"Yes I know."  We roll through the drive thru and pull into the assisted living facility.  I park up front between to parked vehicles to minimize Mary's walk.  I get out and run around to get the step in place.  She waits by the door while I move the Jeep into a regular parking space.  Mary has a limited range without her walker.  She did not want to take it for this trip.  Father's room is on the second floor but the distance is not too far.  I hold her hand the last few yards just to help her.

We knock on the door and enter.  My dad is waiting in his wheel chair.  He is dressed and his hair is combed.  It does not matter how old you are you still want to look good for a date.  I notice his room is clean and straightened.  I plop myself into the green recliner in the corner and allow the two to talk.

They chat for an hour before it is time for his dinner.  My dad planned it that way.  He is reluctant to have Mary visit.  I think he is embarrassed by his decline.  Six months ago he was driving himself around.  I had to push the issue and offer to take her myself. 

The visit makes Mary happy.  He looks better.  She tell me he never discusses his cancer.  He is very private. I tell her he has stage four esophageal cancer.  I think she should know the extent of his cancer.  He probably thinks he is protecting her.  I think he should cherish these moments while he is still feeling good.

I drop Mary back home.  I reminder that it is not out of my way to take her back again once I return from China. 

Sam says she hates old people.  She is dealing with a difficult dad and a mother with cancer.  It is hard on her.  I sympathize with them.  They still have drive to live but the body and mind do not always cooperate.

Friday, October 4, 2019

Conversations on Plenty of Fish

The latest conversation on Plenty of Fish dating site, with subtext for added enjoyment.

Me: You have any fun plans for the weekend?

Potential: No

(She is starting off sounding so exciting.)

Me:We what do you like to do?  Do you like the outdoors?

Potential: It's alright.

(What could possible be wrong with the outdoors in Michigan in the summer and fall!)

Me: That doesn't sound to promising?  You need your vitamin D :).

Potential: Yeah, lol

Me: So if it isn't the outdoors, where do you spend your time?

Potential: I just stay home

(I am texting Howard Hughs, apparently)

Me: You need some adventure in your life!  There is a whole world outside!

Potential:  I know.

(There are soooo many ways she could have taken my opening.  At this point I am losing my patience.)

Me:Well what would you like to try?  and what has kept you from it?

Me:  It would be a shame to go through all the pain of a face lift and not let anyone see it.

(Yes she states in her profile she just got a face lift!)

Potential: I thought about that.

Me: Andddddd what would you like to do?  Anxiety holding you back?

Potential: Yes!

(Great way to expose your best qualities, but now I am intrigued)

Me: Bad former relationship?  You say you are going to be going back to school are you nervous about that

Potential: Omg, yes on the school! I'm so nervous about it.  I have a hard time around people because most don't have common sense and I get angry and annoyed.

Me:Well it will be good to learn a bit of patience.

(Much like me in this conversation)

Potential: I'm working on that lol. Ur funny.

Me: Well I figure you should be yourself on here.  No use sugar coating my personality, it would come out once you meet me.  so tell me more about you.

Potential: Not much to tell, I'm pretty boring.  Kinda lost touch with what I like or don't.  I want to maybe talk to you before I agree to meet.  Met some serious weirdos on here.  Not that you are.  I know a lot of POF about women too.

At this point I feel a bit sorry for her but not a bit interested in here.  Next!

Thursday, October 3, 2019


I have been reading old post.  This is my fourth blog.  The other three are achieved.  I have been arranging the best of the over 1800 posts into a novel that chronicles my post divorce life, my relationships with Tinkerbell, Billy, depression and how I have changed.  It is the tale of a lonely man find companionship in strip clubs and how he learns to live again.  The old blogs are achieved because it is too easy for people to find you on the internet.  I do not want a potential employer or a potential new girlfriend reading about my past and judging.

Just today I read an article about a company turning down a potential intern for a bikini picture she post on Instagram.  It seem excessive.  I do not understand why people still find it necessary to post on Facebook or Instagram.  I do not have a Facebook account.  I use Instagram to follow about seventy-five of the hottest girls on the web.  The eye candy is nice to look at, but I would never post anything.

Plenty of Fish is starting to produce a couple of conversations but no dates so far. I to one potential woman, "It would be nice to meet you before I have to travel to China in the coming weeks".

Her response was not very promising.  She was pretty busy this weekend.  It is her grandson's birthday. "Sure I will try to do that..." .  I was thinking a kids birthday is going to consume your entire weekend?

My reply was a bit stronger than my usual, "I don't know you yet, so I am not judging and I am guilty of this too when faced with meeting someone new.  It is easy to let things slip and not commit to a first meet.  I used to feel a lot of trepidation.  It is best to just pick a day and commit an hour or things just fizzle and you miss the chance to meet that person on the other side who might just be pretty cool."

Do you think I was to harsh?  If you are on a dating site you should be on there to meet people right?

Wednesday, October 2, 2019

Unbalanced Sheet

My mind needs to start focusing on the negatives about Billy.  We often repaint our history in a favorable light.  I need to remember no matter how much I miss her, or the relationship, she came with a lot of baggage.

-Billy is a heroin addict, she has almost continuously used for 9 years and does not show any signs of being able to quit.  She could get a bad dose of fentanyl and die at anytime.

-She has bad credit that will cost a few thousand to repair.

-She has arrest warrants for skipping out on probation. A traffic stop will cause her to go to jail.

-She has the appetite of an anorexic.  She left looking unhealthy and thin.  The drugs, her diet and the demands of being an electrician are aging her.

-Her habit makes traveling problematic.

-All her money goes to drugs.  She is a financial drain that cannot take care of herself.

-She still see a customer from her stripper days to fund her habit. She never discusses the details but at $400 a meeting, I doubt it is platonic.

-She comes with drama.  All it takes is her car to break down, her dealer to get put in jail, the dope to dry up or her customer she still sees not to give her money to seen her life into turmoil.

-She has an avoidant relationship style, she does not communicate and is too attached to her family to create a traditional household.

-I no longer want to feel responsible for enabling her.

All this paints her in a very negative light.  My conscious is urging me to balance it with her positive attributes but the relationship is over.  This is an exercise in letting go. I do not want anyone who reads this to think horrible of her.  She is a good person, with an addiction, who made bad choices.  I loved her-- which means there is more to her these cons.

Tuesday, October 1, 2019


I am spending my days swiping left and right and repeating the same tired opening lines.  "How was your weekend?"  "I like to go biking and kayaking what about you?"  Conversations fizzles, women disappear.  I can see the fruits of my labors in my sent box, unread deleted, unread.  Those that do seem to like me are not my type.  I am 5' 10" 158 lbs.  If the weigh as much as me, I am not going to be attracted.  Our lifestyles won't match.  It says active and health conscious in my profile!

All the sites have scammers fishing.  I have prostitutes soliciting me on Plenty of Fish and pseudo college students who just want to chat on Seeking.  I am using four different dating apps.  I amt trying to be active.  Thinking it is all just a waste of time.

It is getting harder to get out of bed.  I don't want to go dormant and fall back on old ways.  Billy is becoming a memory but I memory that resurfaces occasionally.

Sam and I met up for dinner last night.  I indicated her neighbor in the red corvette was acting strangely.  She assured me he owned the house.  Our conversation turned to my luck with dating sites.  "I am looking for age appropriate women,"  I assure her.  "But I don't think age appropriate will practice using the hula- hoop topless in the living room."

"That's not normal."  she tells me.

"Yeah well, Billy did." 

Monday, September 30, 2019

The Future

Currently I am taking care of my dying father.  I am focusing on making him happy.  He is often the reason I get out of bed each day.  I still believe unseen forces align our lives. They do not determine our destiny, but the give us the things we need, if we allow them. I have positive affirmations written out on cards. These are suppose to help me reprogram my mind and help me get over this break up.  The top card says, "Everything I need comes to me at the right time and place."

My co-worker would say we tend to give significance to random events in our lives.  I believe there is more to it all.  My friend Sam went to see a psychic last week.  This is the second psychic to tell her she will be getting married again.  The psychic said she would be meeting him soon.  Sam does not believe it.  She is twice divorced.  Both guys cheated on her.  Deep down I think she wants to meet someone.  Don't we all?

My dad is finding it harder to swallow certain foods.   I think the tumor in his throat is growing again.  It is hard to tell without testing.  I don't want him to die of starvation, unable to get anything passed the lump in his esophagus.  Other parts of his body are failing.  Any of them could be the final cause.  Getting old sucks.

I have a friend at work.  Her mother-in-law is dying from a disease that hardens the lungs.  Her mother-in-law is in hospice and has been for over a week.  My friend says it is agony watching her slowly die.  It scares me.  I am not ready to see this happen to my dad.

Sunday, September 29, 2019

Little Houses

The weekends allow me to stay in bed until thoughts of Billy drive me out.  I reduced the amount of CBD oil I am taking.  Tinkerbell said I was taking too much.  My morning sadness is better.  I don't find myself pacing the condo in tears.

This morning Billy was on my mind.  What if she does get clean?  What if she is happy?   Was I holding her back?  Sometimes I don't want her to be happy because I am not happy.  I tell people I did not like everything about our relationship, but I did like being with Billy.

Long ago when The Ex (wife) and I were looking for houses the realtor told us, "I am just going to give you the listings.  Drive by the houses.  If you don't like the outside there is no use in me showing you the inside.  You have to come home to the house every day.  If you don't like the outside you will never be happy."   Billy was a house I could come home to every day.

Still no luck on the dating apps.  The only one where I get any interest is a app called seeking.  It is for prostitutes and girls looking for sugar daddies.  Good to see money can still buy you happiness for the night.

Friday, September 27, 2019

Past to Present

I called Tinkerbell on the way home for the car.  "So when am I going to she the new kitty?"

"You can come over tonight I guess.  We are still cat proofing the condo."  she did not sound too enthused.

"Did you guys eat?"  She had not.  I made the idea more appealing by offering to take her and the T Rex to dinner.  They never turn down food.

The new kitty is a cute black and grey named Wednesday. Tink bought it for the T Rex but I think she is more in love with it.  The T Rex is in his first year of high school.  The name really does not fit any more.  He is not into dinosaurs.  He is in the ROTC.  Tink got the kitten because he had to cut his hair as part of his training.  I pulled them away from the kitten long enough to get dinner at Qdobas.

It reminded me of on of our adventure nearly ten years ago:

Posted Sunday June 28 2009
The Doctor Appointment

            Saturday Tinkerbell asked if I would take her to a doctor appointment downtown. She did not know the area and did not want to go alone. I picked her and The T- Rex up at 11:00. The T- Rex was nervous at first. He will be three years old next month and it had been a while since he saw me. I had come prepared though. I pulled some Lego guys out of the armrest storage compartment and handed them to him. Quickly he was quiet and happy while we maneuvered are way to the inter most areas of Detroit.

The heat of the day was already climbing though not yet noon. We passed overgrown playgrounds and empty buildings but you don't see a lot of people. We found the office with time to spare. It was a surprisingly well kept building on the outskirts of the downtown medical district.

"Can you take him to McDonalds or something while I'm here?"

"Are you kidding. It is the middle of Detroit. There are no McDonalds," I said.

"He can't stay in the car the whole time."

"I'll figure something out."

Tinkerbell got out and I continued deeper into the city. I do not come downtown very often but today I had a good idea of where I was and where we could go. I pulled into an empty parking lot. An Asian man wearing a blue turban came out of the valet booth and asked how long I was going to be. I said an hour. His English was poor and I had a hard time understanding him as we dickered over the price.

He glanced in my wallet as I shuffled through my money. "Give me $10 and I will give you $4 when you return.

"How about I just give you $6 now."

I helped The T Rex get out. He gathered up the Lego guys in one hand and held mine with the other. We left my shiny new red Charger alone and looking out of place and headed out into the city. We were near the courthouse. Tall buildings surrounded us. I kept The T Rex interested by pointing out the various buildings. I was afraid he would be scared without his mom but we were on an adventure and he was fine.

We talked as we walked along. "Mommy at the doctors?"

"Yes your mommy is at the doctors. Have you been to the doctors?"

"Umm hmm."

"Did he listen to your heart?"

"He fixed my finger."

"He fixed your finger? That's right the doctor is going to fix mommy's finger too."

We were headed for Coney Island, a famous little dive dinner on the corner of Lafayette and Griswald. As we approached the restaurant we saw a black man sprawled out on his stomach on the sidewalk. His head was resting on a folded jacket. Pigeons pecked at scraps on the cement around him. He was wearing only one shoe. On the other foot was a stark white sock. I found myself wonder how the bums sock could be so clean if he was walking around the city in it.

"He's dead, " The T Rex said matter-of-factly.

"No, he's is just sleeping." I hoped. "Lets walk by quietly so we don't wake him."

We entered the restaurant and sat at the counter. The servers and two men at the counter were all middle eastern and kept up a steady conversation in their native tongue while we ordered hot dogs and french fries. The T Rex was more interested in playing with his toys then eating. Each time I would encourage him to eat he would tell me , "I'm fine." He was no trouble though and seemed to be enjoying his adventure.

Tinkerbell called to check in. "What are you doing? Where you at? Is he okay?" I assured her we were fine and asked what food she would want us to bring back for her.

Toward the end of our meal The T Rex figured out that the orange stool he was sitting on could spin. He would spin the stool fast and the stool would vibrate. He would laugh and giggle as I imitated the sound and tried copying me with his own lips.

Time went by quickly. We ordered chili cheese fries to go for his mom. The T Rex carried them back to the car.  He reminded me to be quiet as we walked past the sleeping homeless man. It reminded me of when my kids were young. Three years old is such a magical age. Everything is an adventure and conversations are delightful because you never know what they will say.

We drove back to the doctor's office and Tinkerbell walked out a few moments later. As we pulled back out onto the road The T Rex asked, "did he fix your finger mom?"

Tinkerbell looked at me confused for a moment, she went for a female exam. I quickly explained that was what doctors do and she played along, showing her index finger to her son and flexing it. "See all better."

Together they devoured the chili fries on the way home. I was a little sad when I dropped them off but it was fun. It reminded me briefly of when we all lived together.