Thy Will be Done

That which burns brightest, burns briefest.

I look around at the wreckage of my pesonal life, and I know that my job is the only thing I have left. That too now hangs in the balance and I am torn.

Half of me wishes it would end.
Now.
End it.
Force me to move in the middle of the night on a bus or on a plane....stripped of all but a few days worth of clothes and my training gear.
Half of me wishes to end things here on good terms as I am beholden and feel obligated to clients and co-workers in a good way.
I do not wish to tarnish the image I have crafted for years on end in this field due to one mistake.

I am at the point where there is not much left to break.

I thought things were rough a week ago with the split and the divorce and the money.

Now they are unimaginably deep and for the first time in a very long time...I am genuinely afraid of what may come to pass.

It was a good wake up call nonetheless.
I had forgotten how insidious the drink can be.
As I'd forgotten how crafty the fairer sex can be.
I just wish I hadn't gotten both my reminders in the span of a week and so far from payday.
Experience teaches its lesson painfully and abjectly.

I see now, inescapably, that I must leave this place.

I see it now more clearly than anything I have ever seen in my adult life.

All the signs point to "leave".

Pack up and run away as fucking far and fast as you can.
I may move out west or I may move to stay with my mom and live quietly for awhile in a place where there simply is nothing to do as that will force me to put my life back together and instate a policy of normalcy which lacks in the freedom of revelry.

As always....despite how deep and dark it gets, I shall try to broadcast these confessions from the underground.
I started this blog at the behest of a friend b/c his friends loved hearing about my exploits.
I have grown weary of living my life as a cautionary tale.
I am just about out of wits and balls as they say.
I have little energy remaining for the life less ordinary.

I hope only that I am able to continue writing and that my sanity hangs together while I take the long, hard, uphill path toward putting my life back into order.

It's always the smallest and seeminly insignificant choices that have the largest impact.
When I asked her to marry me on a whim.
When I chose to not stay home and get **** the other night b/c I was tired and wanted a bite to eat.
When that little voice suggests that you just sleep and rest but the other voice prods you on.

In other news, the girll texted me after silence for days.
I already know why and I don't have the stomach for pretty lies while my personal life aborts much of what I'd put into order for nearly two years.
Through some technological mishap I saw the picture of her with some dude and it was very clear the nature of the relationship.
But then, what else would I deserve?

I'm not surprised so much as shocked that I let myself believe the pretty lies.
The lies of the drink. Her lies.
The lies that I could control the addiction.
The lies that I would find contentedness.

The only thing that matters is keeping my job.
Everything else can slowly but surely be re-constructed until I burn it all down again.

I see all that now. Clearer than day. Clearer than lust.