Hello Moon

Hello Moon

I see you up there. You are sometimes the only constant thing in my life. When I was a child I saw the “man” on you. I think as I got older he disappeared. Along with Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Great Pumpkin.

You’ve been there at my best of times and worst of times. You’ve peered down on dinosaurs, Adam and Eve? You’ve seen the Great Pyramids be built from scratch. You saw us fight horrendous battles and had many a lover kiss under vou.

You comforted the broken hearted, the lonely, those adrift at sea. You watched over Columbus and The Vikings. You played host to Earthly visitors several times as they scratched your surface for a greater understanding of the universe.

You push and pull our vast oceans and lakes.

We blame you for bad driving and otherwise odd behavior. Lon Chaney always needed a shave once he was caught in your moon beams.

You don’t care what the latest fad is, or which song is on top of charts…even though you were mentioned by name.

“Moon”…that’s the best name we could come up with? l’m surprised you don’t have a corporate sponsor yet, or a logo carved into you.

Give it time ….we will screw it up.

Shine on…shine brightly and I will see you tomorrow.

Embers

When watching any movie where people fall deeply…very deeply in love, I ache for the feeling. You can never feel that intense flame like the first time.

Make up sex is pretty close. 😉

But seriously, that ache and longing. When you count the minutes until you can see them again. Everything around you is just slightly out of focus.

Then there is the first couple of days of a really deep exhale. Your body knows. It knows you can stop searching. Stop worrying whether or not they are the one. Whether it will last.

Do we look down that road? When we say for better or for worse…do we really ponder what “worse” will truly be? How many marriages fail before you even get to the first “worse”?

How many survive a whole shit-load of “worse”?

Are we stubborn, settled, afraid…spoiled, comfortable, apathetic….selfish? Why…why do we keep trying to keep some kind of flame, sparkle…or at the minimum…a glowing ember, alive?

Is this was love…devolves into? Is this the “mediocre or kind of worse” phase of marriage?

When do hobbies become, escape, excuses…?

We are in “roommate” mode again. Sharing space, giving space, minimal taking.

Existing.

Our third decade and a few years of marriage is coming up. We will probably go to “The Restaurant”. Again. But that’s our thing.

Do I make it last another 30 years? (I hope I don’t die before then)

Or do I slowly let that ember quietly keep dying until it’s cold ashes?

…or maybe breathe some life back into it. Fanning it so a single little flame dances again.

For now, I’m choosing…a rich glow.

The Nightowl

We escaped this past weekend to a beach house on the Outer Banks. We were invited by family who was renting this temporary paradise.

My wife over-planned, over-packed and over-stressed. She is very organized. Me…not so much.

14 hours on the road, we arrived. It felt like we had to turn around again to go home. We tried to squeeze a lot out of the two and a half days that remained.

A couple three-finger pours of my favorite whiskey and I sat outside under the cooler Northern air and under a full moon. Jupiter glowed brightly as it peeled over the moon’s shoulder.

I could hear the Atlantic Ocean just over the tall sandy berms crashing onto the beach in slow methodically waves.

I made an empty promise to get up each morning to watch the sunrise. I chose sleep over it each time.

I did catch one sunset, which is my normal routine out the back of my regular home.

It was good to finally be with family since COVID hit. It was long overdue. Everyone was older, grayer, and tired looking.

I met my latest great-nephew. The family secret that he has a different father. No one says it out loud. Even though he is only 5, he is probably feeling a little out of place.

But…I have to hand it to his unofficial step-dad. I think he knows, but doesn’t care. He is a great father. Especially given his rough start in life. His wife is currently carrying his actual child. The stark difference between him and his older brother will be…noticeable.

And then I remember how my own father married a widow with 4 children. This is almost the same thing. A man chooses to be a father to those who are not of his blood. Same with adoption, same with…being a human first and not a judge of character.

I always think back to one of the few Bible verses I actually remember: “…he who is without sin, cast the first stone.”

This world would be so less angry, so less judgmental if we all stayed in our own lanes and respected each others decisions.

Now granted….that’s only if our choices didn’t impact others in a huge and life-changing way.

My great-nephews genetic code is none of my business. None.

As I started writing this latest post, I didn’t plan of going off on this particular tangent.

The whole point of this trip was to escape the world. To be with family. In-laws aren’t blood relations. But we love them just the same.

That’s the theory. In a perfect world.

We all gathered around the table, we played games, swam in the pool, soaked in the hot tub. We walked the beach.

As night fell, I drank to unwind, to forget, to feel…nothing. My father and mother in law have less days ahead than behind. I fear that day we have to get together to say goodbye to them forever.

Doesn’t sound like a relaxing getaway, does it?

I thank God for the extra days I took off at home. This is my fortress of solitude.

I drag out the night as long as possible. Holding onto the hours until sleep pulls me to bed.

My dreams have been…tiring. Complicated. With a little bit of conflict thrown in here and there.

Maybe I will dry myself out a little more. Maybe I will get some more exercise.

Maybe.

Me, Jim Beam and Jupiter

We drove 15 hours to have a family reunion on the outer banks of North Carolina.

The drive was brutal as I’m not wired for that kind of gauntlet anymore.

Before the trip, there was the usual martial tension and I started my “Divorce Math” again. Tho was the same “‘math” that justified me sleeping with someone from my past.

I was so angry and done. And told my wife, we will have a “talk” when we get home.

Now as I sit here at the beach rental with Jupiter in all its glory along side a full moon, I’m at peace in a driven reset.

This is our 33rd wedding anniversary. We’ve survived more and less up til now. Part of me wants to leave her and the other 95% would die without her.

It was great seeing family back together after the Covid years.

…so what do I do now?

Give an ultimatum or just keep the peace and stay with the woman I swore “better and for worse” with?

I choose… peace.

The Great Pretender

I wish I was as cool and had my shit as together as my social media self. We smile, filter and edit a perfect version of ourselves. Everything is perfect and nothing is wrong. The sun shines, the food is delicious and we all live in perfect harmony. We have incredible earth shattering sex every single night, or randomly throughout the house on a whim. We both climax and say everlasting sweet nothings during and afterwards. We swear we will die for each other and nothing or no one will every get between us. Money is never a problem and every single God Damn thing we touch is GOLD.

How I wish even 1% of that was true. We crop, edit, filter and only tell the beautiful lie when we hit “Post”.

I expound my love for her, and thank God for every waking moment she is in my life. My children will all be successful and perfect. The Great Lie, the Great Filter. The Fake Me.

As the 4th glass of Shiraz hits my soul, I realize how wrong and unfaithful I am to myself.

I praise how just the thought of her makes my heart race and soul is sated. But…alas…it’s not.

I am back to doing “Divorce Math”. I wonder if I am a Narcist. As I was accused of by a former mistress/Fling/revenge Fuck from my past. I can’t apologize for this brutal language and equally brutal truth. The mask wont stay on. The curtain is on fire. I’m tired of running, pretending…of hiding.

During our wedding vows, the overall theme was “Love is Sacrifice”. It had weight, it had stamina. It had…value.

Over three decades later, I can’t keep the leaking damn from bursting. I’m tired of bending, or compromising, of portraying plausible denial. I’m tired of Pretending. Of keeping up appearances.

Something has to change. We are back to “Roommate Mode” . I’ve had more sex with strangers this past year than with my own wife. Hell…more the past decade with others. Is marriage and monogamy a lie?

Is love a sham…is it a farce? Is it…convenient for the lazy, or those past their prime?

Just like I can’t tolerate learning something in class, or running meetings like I use to do as a Program Manager in my previous life, I’m out of touch. I don’t want to enter the dating game again. I don’t want an angle. I don’t want to charm myself into their pants.

It’s Friday….I’m into that 4th glass of Red. It was a long day, week…month…year…decade…life up to this point.

I’m almost dead serious when I kid about still being tired from 1997,

That year almost killed me. It sure did family.

I wonder who or what to blame. My underlying sense of abandonment when my parent’s divorce? An ugly divorce at that. She ran off with the Devil….and a few other losers. My Dad become a Saint and didn’t fall in love again. He lived a bitter and lonely life until he left this world on a respirator.

Funny how the only son he brought into this world was the one who had to officially let him go. (Honoring his wishes)

Am I being selfish only wanting a warm touch, skin on skin…sex….intimacy. I want someone to literally lean against me. I only want my arm to drape across a loved one as I fall asleep. The woman I promised to love and cherish now stays up until 2-3 am. It’s like a curse.

If you are still reading up to this point….thank you, thank you…and thank you for allowing me to cry for help, to ask total strangers if I’m in the wrong. Being selfish.

I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, next week or next month.

All I know is…we need to have a “Talk”…an ultimatum. Marriage and Love shouldn’t have to beg for warmth.

Maybe one more glass so I give up again and not follow through on my veiled threats.

Maybe next time.

Consistent Self-Doubt

I am my own worst critic.

Call it an abusive form of self-improvement. Call it self-inflicted quality control.

No matter how many wins, how many accomplishments, I will never be confident.

My goal is to remain humble and honest.

Some goals are…pipe dreams and forever just out of reach.

And they say you should always be consistent. Don’t want to send mixed messages to the outside world or internally.

Will there ever be a good balance? Or will I be in the red forever?

A Sound of Thunder

I post jokes on social media about being younger compared to now, but I think it’s true.
What we prioritized, could do, wanted to do…compared to this version of ourselves is two different worlds…and versions of ourselves.

I had a nice chat with my cousin about my youngest sister’s last contact with her. It gave me just a little more of her history to the short decade she was in my life.

We also talked about what life threw at us, and how some people have two paths to follow.

Somehow….some way…I stumbled onto a good one. It was due to my Dad’s Greatest Generation experiences, sacrifices and some due to my joining the Air Force, when I was tired and beaten down at the ripe old age of 21….which then gave me that missing purpose and a whole lot of perspective about myself and the world in general.

Another key moment in my life was finding my wife. …then my children.

Up until 2008, I didn’t have time to look backwards.

I also managed to outrun the guys in the white coats with giant butterfly nets. 😉

Which brings me to my “now”.

There are books and movies about traveling back in time to change one thing. The characters sometimes have a better life “Back to the Future” for example.

Others are like “A Sound of Thunder”, those changes have a ripple and alter the present in horrendous and nightmarish ways.

So…what does all of this mean? Like when my Dad paraphrased Teddy Roosevelt “Do what you can, where you are…with what you have.”

I’m grateful for the scars, the pain, the wins and losses.

And for my Perspective.