Not Myself

I've lost Finesse now. She went peacefully on September 11th around 3:30PM. With her have gone my hopes, dreams, aspirations, desires. Everything I was was bound to Finesse and Style. They were the reason I stuck around past 2000. They were my soul anchors. Each day that goes by I miss them more. I'd made a vow that I would stick around to take care of them and make their lives plentiful, beautiful, easy, and full of love. Implicit in that vow was that they were my only reason to continue. I feel lost. And every day that I remain here brings me further away from stability. I've started drinking a little more. Not to excess. But not limited to a glass of wine per week. I've had opportunities to do stupid shit for which I kick myself afterwards that that could've been the deciding moment. A bus driving towards me on the narrow road around UCLA veers into my lane, and I swerve when I should just stay put and let it happen. How stupid is that. Speaking of which. My wife makes me feel stupid and worthless more and more often. I'm bad enough at that on my own. I have no say in my house. I have no opinion at all. My voice doesn't matter and probably should be silenced. I'm thinking more and more of buying a gun and making a mess of the house. I wish I was less intelligent. Then I wouldn't be here for sure. I tried for years, smoking all that pot to make me stupider. Since I quit nearly 11 years ago, the haze lifted, and I can make smart decisions. So with just one smart decision left to make I find I am foundering and flailing and pretty much placing myself on a path. I don't know who I am anymore. And its not scary.