Never Meant
So let's just pretend-
Everything and...
The room mates and I have decided to not let a 5th member join our sausage fest. He's cool, and we love him, but fuck—does 4 people already feel crowded. Plus he already flaked out of it last week, then all of the sudden is back in.
We're all creatures of habit, and that kind of change scares us.
So we sat him down and tried to talk about it, but he was more than willing to keep changing the subject. I walked him out, and sat in his car while he smoked. I told him to get his finances straight and try again next year. I couldn't get a read on what he was feeling, or if he understood what I was trying to tell him.
If housing wasn't so expensive here, I'd be living on my own. I wish I could escape these people. I love them, but I hate living with them. I feel stuck and obligated to live here.
Grown men weren't meant to live like this.
I want my own bathroom.
Anything-
My bike restoration is going slow and steady. I just got the headstock bearings all de-rusted and lubed up. She's steering smooth and quiet now. Besides the increased amount of heavy metals in my blood, I'm pretty happy with the project.
All I have to do now is install the bottom bracket American-to-English converter, bend the forks to a more modern width to accommodate a hybrid/MTB rim, throw some cranks on, install the brake-line... Reassemble the road brake grips... Buy some center-pull hanging brakes... Most of the work I've done is stripping paint and de-rusting the thing.
Lots left to do, but it's not intimidating. I just want to ride it already.
It was my great grandpa's bike. I put a little sentiment behind the head badge. It's written in sharpie, and has a few layers of clearcoat protecting it.
It's gonna rock.
-Between You and Me...
I ride an e-bike to work every day.
I own a car, pay for insurance and registration for the car, and I ride my bike to work. It's a necessity for some, but is a luxury for me. I live close to my job, and this year I've made the most out of it by riding my bike to work. I don't really get too much exercise out of it.
That's not the point. It's strictly for transportation.
I wake up early and get to breathe the air. I see the sun rise, and quail cross the path. There's a little spot where crows like to hang out, and sometimes they'll fly along side of you.
I've never had this kind of lifestyle. It's something I'll miss once I move places.
There's a few bridges that the bike path goes under, and one of them is a hotspot for drunkards and druggies from the train station nearby. I've never had an issue with them, but I wish one of them never whittled a bar of Irish Spring on the asphalt. It has since melted into the ground, and that underpass permanently smells like that soap. I've just been holding my breath and speeding through. It's like breathing in a grown mans body odor mixed with deodorant. At least it's not raw shit I suppose.
Was never meant.
I'm happy to be single again. Being in an unhappy relationship is rough. It was rough for him because he saw nothing wrong.
I hold things back, and let them fester.
It leads to resentment.
I ended the relationship with no tears, no fighting or screaming, and no mutual feelings. He was the one with tears, fighting and screaming. It felt like I stomped and scraped his heart in the dirt.
I listened to Gary Stewart for a few weeks while day drinking. It helped ease the guilt.
Nothing was that bad while dating. I just never told him that I had small gripes. I wasn't allowed to say the R word when referring to myself. That's a part of my living-room talk vocabulary. If I can't say things like that in front of my significant other in private, then I don't feel like the connection is actually deep. It feels horrible to be verbally corrected while in private.
We went on a trip to Nevada to see his family. I said century eggs looked gross and I'd never eat one. I was branded as a racist until I apologized to all Asians. I refused to, and he went quiet for the rest of the day. I am a dick sometimes, so I'm used to saying sorry. I caved, apologized, and he cried at me in public.
I'll still never try one of those things. One more reason not to.
"Rape Me" by nirvana came on my spotify while we were in the car. It showed the song title on my stereo, and he said to please change it. He had never heard that song, nor had he ever been sexually assaulted. He disliked it solely because of the bad word. It was just to show me that he was the morally superior person, and was actively training me to be better.
I've received unwanted sex before, and the title doesn't set me off.
The song's not even that good. Nirvana just sounds like stale poop rock. Nirvana is something that plays at a bar, or in a barbershop.
It's not a good relationship of you have to walk on eggshells. I regret not cutting it off sooner. But I'm glad I learned where resentment stems from.
It stems from cowardice.
Gotta work on that.
Maybe after my cool bike is done.