I taste it every day. A sharp bite on my tongue and skin, an urge to cry that’s nearly inescapable. I’m taking this head on, feeling every corner and curve of this awful experience. It’s the most loneliness I’ve ever felt. I can see why you’d rather do what you did than to face this.
The decision you made to bury yourself into someone else will only prolong the agony of when you realize that our relationship was fucking amazing and no quick remedy will take that away.
We were incredible. Our love was and still is, indestructible, and as much as you want to replace the hole in your body with my best friend, in the end, this will only make things worse. Our travel, our laughter, our philosophy, our talks, our kisses, our evenings on the town, our documentaries, our everything that we shared and loved is ours and ours alone. I never want to forget that, I cannot lose myself in someone else because despite the fact that I initiated our break up, I still love you like no other and did this for us. For you. For me. For us.
Your next move was, without a doubt, one of the harshest things I’ve ever had to endure and I can only speculate as to why it was done, why you took his side, why you refused to talk to me about anything, why it was so quick and easy for you to throw away everything we shared so you could sever me from your world without having to see the blood. I relinquished things to you I’ve never shared with anyone nor would I ever want to. You were my absolute love, my fierce and formidable love, whom I respected enough to let go when things were not well between us. Your violent decision to immediately start a relationship with my best friend will only establish a legacy of rash emotion feeding upon desperation and tragedy. You cannot have a positive successful relationship when someone has to die for it to occur. I didn’t throw you away, Xxxxxxxxx. I did nothing to deserve the dark emptiness you and him have given me. I understand that you will look back on this and regret, at the very least, how it made someone you used to love feel.
I will always be assured that I left you in far better condition than when I found you. I only hope you can say the same for yourself when all this is fully processed by you. Don’t bury it for too long, it may ruin any chance you’ll ever have for happiness with anyone in this world.
I’m sitting here destroying my eardrums by blasting Underdog World Strike by Gogol Bordello at full blast in my headphones. I’m out by the pool of the health club enjoying my favorite song of all time right now realizing that life can be soooooo good.
It’s 9:30 at night and I just finished working out a little bit and sweating good and heavy in the sauna and it’s cool and breezy outside tonight. It’s Sunday night in Saigon and I’m going back to my house to snack on some Oreos and see what’s on cable.
I don’t know why I haven’t been writing much or taking many pictures, I think I need to get adjusted a bit to a place where I know I’ll be staying for awhile.
Some of the big jocks at the gym are really messy pricks. I think they’re Eastern European, preppie and definitely metro macho assholes. That’s ok, I left pubic hair on the handles of their lockers.
The gym is otherwise great. Nice and mellow, the staff is good, people are cool and I have a good time, though the music is sometimes pretty bad. Sissy dance disco or soft, crybaby crap like Jason Mraz (you know this turd?) and Jack Johnson (geez) but then I’m saved by some Britney (don’t tell anyone) or an occasional dose of Guns ‘n Roses. I’m glad I got to use the “n”.
I’m excited you’re coming. It’s gonna be great fun! Snorkling will be worth it, for sure. I’ll show you how to blow the water out the top if you get some in your mouth. It’s like being a whale, we’ll get some kick-ass crepes and the best coffee I’ve ever had. We’re gonna see some great stuff, I can’t wait.
We can learn how to cross a street or ask for a check at an eatery. One involves moving at a deliberate and calm pace and the other requires a polite yell across a room.
My back’s been pretty sore but doing ok, though. I’m quite sure it’s the bed, the foam mattresses here are murder. I’m changing hotels next week and a spring mattress is priority uno.
Ok, I’m going home, now.
Love you miss you,
Ode to Minus
I can’t say how sad I am about Minus but I really regret not being there to deal with this. I’m so sorry and thank you so much. She was in a happy place and she was going to go regardless so at least she was having fun when she went and I so appreciate that you were watching her while I’m traveling.
Minus is with my old dog now and they’re chasing milk bones and dead birds all over the place together, scooting their butts along the carpet and scratching things for no good reason. When we die we’ll see them again, bet on it. She was a great cat, but she was almost 15 years old and I’m happy that she got to live her whole life till the end. Not bad for an abandoned kitten in 1994. She’s been through a lot: dogs’ mouths, tomcats, new houses, raccoons, animal control and what not, she had a long, lush life and I helped her have it so I feel accomplished in that sense.
I feel she did good and that now she’s annoying Jimi Hendrix with that grating meow of hers. His problem now. I’ll cry and feel sad, but wake up tomorrow and feel better. As for her body, I suppose whatever is best convenient for all parties concerned. I’ve thought about taxidermy but no professional will entertain such an idea so whatever is done is fine with me. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be there to help out. I joke because cats are annoyingly independent and they really don’t care about anything except getting petted, getting food, and getting a nap. They don’t live for anyone but themselves but that’s what makes them charming. Dogs, on the other hand, are co-dependent and endless pleasers so it’s always hard to let go when they die. Cats though, cats are cats and it’s their world.
Thank you so much for being there,
It’s late but I’ve got good music in my ear and I have you to thank for that. I’m half-watching women’s tennis from Qatar so the line judges are all wearing burqas. How cool. I think I have to find a new place to live.
I’m currently renting a house with my dad that is 2 levels with a dangerous little staircase that leads to 2 rooms upstairs. Wrap-around balcony, cable TV and wi-fi if you point out the west window, stand on one foot and hum as it scams the signal from the nearby hotel. A/C in the bedroom and a spacious kitchen, a basic bathroom and cute living room, it all sounds pretty good. Heh heh. The kitchen smells a bit like a public area and the floor is a stained rough concrete-like tile and I can’t say I feel comfortable walking through without some sort of shoe on. There is a perpetual public-commode odor that lingers in both the kitchen and bathroom, especially when the day heats up, it’s like the slow, natural rising of the sun, except it’s a smell.
It does have separate rooms so that’s good for privacy since my dad and I are living together. I enjoy his company a lot and I figure I may not see him for another 10 years after I come home so we’ll hang out until then. Rent is also $6 a day, split to 3 bucks. Peanuts. But it essentially smells like peanuts you’d find in a turd so you get what you pay for.
However, it has beds, chairs, closets and shelves, a roof and toilet, a place to hunker down and hide, a place to lay and relax. It’s dry, quiet, and doesn’t get direct sunlight so it never gets unbearably hot. It has fans in every room and lots of fat geckos hanging around. I have these two guys with crooked tails that come in every day, looking for bugs. The Chinese call them Wall Dragons. I just wish they would take a bigger offensive stand against the cockroaches.
The cockroaches here are black and gold and look slippery as they prowl. They have gleaming shiny backs and long tapping feelers, at about 3 or 4 inches to even longer, they skitter and glitter out from the storm drains under the streetlights. For every cool and adorable gecko there is a pair of terrible and disgusting roaches. One night I heard chattering and it was the wings of a cockroach as it flew through the living room window and began to crawl up the front of the couch. After I scooped the poop out of my pants I vowed to find a new place as soon as possible.
Moan, cry, whine.
p.s. It’s actually great here, I’m having a ton of fun, I’m nearly in a new place, searching for a new bike and a whole new world. Speaking of new world, who’s this Obama guy?