Post number 2000. 

Boy, that last 1k went by quickly. Sure a lot of it was reblogs, other posts were just conversation through responses to posts. But I also managed to share a bit more on me with you guys and girls. At least, the ones who take the time to read them all.

I knew this post was coming this week, though admittedly I thought it’d be closer to the end than it is. But there’s not much I can do about that. As the title says, here we are. I’ve been thinking about who or what I wanted to dedicate this post to. Or how I wanted to go about this. Certainly a few select people come to mind when thinking of it. Certainly the events that have encompassed me in the past couple months come to thought. But really, I think I want this one to be about me.

In the past couple months, especially the last month, I’ve done a lot for myself. I’ve done well for myself. And I plan on keeping it all going for the foreseeable future. I like where I am right now in life, at least for the most part. I’ve gotten new friends, I’ve gotten closer to old ones. And even though things haven’t gone quite the way I would like, I can no longer say I regret not telling a certain chica my feelings for her. 

I like where I stand, tumblr. Sure, I can’t lie and say I don’t miss the simple things I had this time last year. But really, I’m at piece right now and I like it. There’s no fighting. There’s no hate. There’s no jealousy. There’s… nothing. There’s just me, and what I do on a day to day basis. This is my life, and I’m living it, of course within reason.

This is a new year. This is a new me. This is my year. In a little over 2 days I turn twenty. I’m putting myself out there on all new fronts. I’m grabbing my dreams and will make them a reality. 

Here’s to us, tumblr reader. Let’s make this something special.

-Don 

Without getting into too much detail, it involved us. I’ve only seen you in person twice since I left for Philly, but you still have a vivid image burned into my brain.

Hell, the last time I saw you in person was 2 years ago, wasn’t it? I think that’s about right.. 

But anyways.. We were sitting on a bed, presumably yours. We were talking, like we did that summer we last saw each other. We were having a good time. And then we brought up the kiss that we never were able to have. I won’t bore the readers with the details to that. We also mentioned the kiss that could have been last we hung out. We laughed about it, remembering how I waived my arms at your stereo to “start” the song that was next on your cd.

Next you know we’re kissing. I pull you onto my lap, my left hand cradling the back of your head, tangled in your hair. You went back to your natural brunette, and it was soft against my fingers and face. Your lips were warm, softer than I expected. Your hands found there way to my shoulders, gripping the muscles beneath the material of the polo I wore, as your legs squeezed around my torso.

Now, reader, you might be wondering where my right hand was during this. But quite honestly, I do not know where it went. I have no recollection of where I placed it in this event. One can assume it to be still on her waist from pulling her to sit on me. Or you can just consider my right hand nonexistent, it doesn’t really matter. 

I’d like to tell you that the dream stopped there, but it really didn’t. I’m going to stop it there, though. If not for the sake of you, reader, but for the sake of wanting to keep the more intimate bits between me and this lass to myself. 

More than anything I wrote this because I was surprised at this dream. I haven’t been thinking about her as much as I had in the past years. Hell, once school started, we basically fell off each others map again. Here and there we still text on occasion. If she finds the time Friday, I’m sure I’ll get some type of birthday message, and I’ll send her a well wish for her 3 year with her boyfriend. But that’s about it.

We used to talk, a lot, about what life could have been like if I had been able to stay up in the mountains. Would the end of that summer happened differently? Might we have lasted? Then when you were single for a bit, we made plans of our dream house around Christmas of our senior year. How the fireplace would look, how the tree would look with Dr. Seuss ornaments, how many dogs we would have, the name we would give the hedgehog we both desperately wanted. You told me delicate things back then, and I did the same, even though we both knew that they would never come true. 

But enough of my ranting. I just wanted to say that I still think about you from time to time. And that I still remember the little things, even though I’ve only seen you twice since I left those 7 years ago. I know you’re happy, and you deserve to be. If anybody knows  at least half of what I’ve gone through, it’s you. And I’m pretty sure I know most of what you’ve gone through. You mean a lot to me, and I miss talking to you.

Thanks for reading, reader.  

As we were hugging, you told me my heart was beating strangely.

You said you wished I could listen to my own heart. To entertain you, I tried putting my ear to my chest.

I couldn’t do it, but I did make you smile.

I don’t know why I like making you smile so damn much. 

But I do wish you could have explained what you meant by my heart beating strangely. I know I feel all tingly when I’m with you, so maybe this is just a new symptom of whatever you wanna say that I have. 

Maybe you make my heart race.

Or skip beats.

Or maybe you slow it down, making me feel human, and vulnerable.

I hope that one day you are able to explain what you meant.

I hope that one day you are able to explain what you heard.  

For this night to never end
I’d rather lay under stars with you
looking up, my face with a gentle bend
A smile upon my face
with you it’s never out of place
Stress free in a stress filled world
the business and noise stops when I’m by your side girl 
But now I’m not next to you
I’m seven feet off the ground
hard swallow through my throat, as I lean over, look down
What would happen if I were to fall
Would I bounce like a ball?
or would I lay there motionless
would I shout or remain speechless
a fall from here might hurt me, but I think it’d relieve the stress
I’ve been going through so much so lately
Things seem to go well, but it’s really life’s way to bait me
think I’ve got a winner, a way to enjoy my life
hang everything I enjoy by thread, and then cut it down with a knife
Things were well
and now look at them; they fell
back to wishing life was more
back to thinking what it’d be like from the floor
looking up through the ceiling, wishing there were stars
looking into your eyes, realizing, there are. 

please let me get over this hump
I’d rather get rid of the lump
That knotted, twisted, feeling inside
that makes me feel weak, makes my hand shake, from side to side
I just want things to be normal
to go smoothly for more than
Just a couple of weeks
push through the bullshit, and bring cheer to my cheeks
I like smiling, better than frowning
but lately I’m just drowning
lost in my own thoughts
some good, some not
Please lift me out of this hole
Why? ‘Cause this life is getting old.  

But at the same time, I had the time of my life.


Long story short:

Drove to Brina’s place friday from mom’s place, hung out with Brina. Spent the night, and got some fantastic cuddles. Talked about some important things. 

Drove to Delaware for Christmas eve dinner. Was gonna go back to Jersey, ended up back with Brina for the night again. Hung out with some other people, and helped them wrap the last of their Christmas gifts for their kids. 

Original plan for Sunday was to head to the nearest diner with Brina, get breakfast and then drive back up to moms for Christmas morning with the kids. But then we slept through the alarm by an hour, and she wanted to keep sleeping for another hour after that. So we did, and it was as fantastic as the best diner food. Actually, probably better. 

Then it came time for me to leave, starting my drive back up to moms. We said our goodbyes, and I headed out. I made it about 5 miles before I realized the car was smoking more than it had been. It had been smoking the day before, but not all that much, so I just thought I was burning oil. As it turned out, I popped a hose. I wanted to to patch it with duct tape and throw some water in the POS, but I didn’t have access to duct tape, and I didn’t feel like traversing the length of the city to find some. 

So I threw some water in it, after making a few calls canceling my plans, and ended up back at Brina’s. I probably could have gotten home, but it would have been a terrible risk. So we ended up going to a dinner with some of her family, and they were cool. Then back to her house, she finally unwrapped her presents, and then we hung out with a bunch of people. 

I had to get up around 7:30 to go get my parts, so I wanted to go to bed early. But it didn’t work out that way. I think we ended up sleeping around 4, and then I got up around 7:45. Said goodbye to Brina, which took quite a while. Threw some more water in the system to get me to Pepboys, got my parts, and got to work. I started around 9:30, was done by 10:15. Note for those who care: Tension clamps are a BITCH to take off by hand. And yet I did it. I’m a beast. 

After I finished, it was 2 hours ‘til home, and 100 miles. Skipped breakfast to get back asap, because as soon as I got home I was going to have to drive another 2 hours in the opposite direction. So, I got home, showered (I was covered in grease) threw a new shirt on, and then hopped in the car and off to the middle of nowhere. 

There’s more to type, but I don’t feel like it at the moment. 

Just know this:
6- the number of hours driving today.
220- miles driven today.
430- miles over just this weekend. 
750- my projected mileage over this visit. 
1,357,532,495- the number of different emotions I’ve felt over the past few days.  

I don’t remember much of my childhood, to be honest. The most I remember vividly is all the stuff we went through when dad left. I remember tidbits here and there, but nothing really striking. Some of the most memorable moments for me other than all that, are mostly moments when I went through some sort of pain. Usually physical, of course. By the age of 8 I had already had multiple x-rays of my back and arms, and a few for my legs. I was, and still am, quite a physical guy. I would climb twenty feet into trees just to jump out of them. Shit, if it wasn’t raining right now, I’d probably go climb a tree. I’ve been in the mood to do so lately.. Maybe over break when there are less people around.. 

As for the story, one of my favorites to remember is the “fight club” we would have at the bus stop every day. When I was in 2nd grade I stopped going to the daycare in town until mom got home. I now had a key to the house, and was responsible for taking myself to the bus and the like. Everyday for about four months, I would meet my friends at the bus stop. About a month we started leaving early to give us more time for the following:

We would get there, say hey, and then we would strip off our coats and book bags. By the time our bags hit the dirt, our knees were meeting the stomach of the person across from us. We would literally beat the living crap out of each other for 20 minutes a day. A few times we got in trouble ‘cause one of the other guy’s mom would roll by and see us. A few times nobody wanted to go against me.. I learned very quickly when it came to fighting. And I improved my technique accordingly. The guy, Sean I think, was quick with punching people. James was quick with kicking. It was interesting watching them spar because of the different methods they used. I was even faster than both of them at both things. Eventually Sean’s mom would find out about our little clubs and come and yell at us all, mostly me. Apparently I started hitting too hard, and started living welts on him.


I’m sorry if this wasn’t the type of childhood memory you were expecting from me. But it’s the closest thing to something I remember enjoying..


Oh, I just remembered this. One day I got off the bus and went to the bar to get some candy. I was friends with the owner, and had a nickel in my pocket. That was enough to buy me 3 tootsie rolls and 2 swedish fish. But Butch was cool, so he always let me get double the stuff I had the money for. But this particular day, the bar wasn’t open when I got off the bus. And it was hailing. This was the first time I had experienced hail, ever. It hurt. I didn’t have an umbrella, so I remember running the 1/2 mile home. I got about a third of the way home, and sought cover under the roof of the ice cream parlor. But it started coming down heavier. So I started running again. Eventually I got home, and it stopped as soon as I got in.. 

I don’t get that. Well, I should say, I don’t get that on most games. 

I’ve noticed in the past few weeks that a lot of the guys in the house have these sort of reactions playing games and such. It’s something I’ve noticed on people in the past, too. 

They duck when getting shot at. Turn the controller when steering. Swerve when their characters is swung at. 

But I don’t do that, and never have. But one thing I noticed in the past couple weeks as well? 

I do have a muscle reaction when playing racing games. It’s not the steering or moving with the car or anything like that. 

It’s shifting. Ever since I learned the difference between automatic and manual transmissions, about 12-13 years ago, I’ve driven manual in all of my racing games. It just feels more natural. 

Yes, I know driving stick in a video game isn’t like driving stick in real life, but I do both. 

But let me clear up what I mean by shifting. I don’t mean dropping the controller on one side to move an imaginary gear up or down, I mean moving my leg. Really I should call it clutching, but whatever.

It doesn’t happen all the time, but when I’m in the zone like I get in driving games, It kinda takes over. It’s not even my foot tapping when I do this. It’s just my muscles flexing like they would when I would press down on the pedal. And it’s timed perfect with my shifts. 

I mentioned it to a couple of the guys, and they thought it was kind of weird. I’m not gonna say I don’t think it’s a bit odd as well, because I’d be lying. But then, what is normal about me?

But really, I think I have the explanation as to why I do this. 

When I was younger, I used to get angry a lot. And I wasn’t always legally allowed to drive. So whenever I got angry, I’d turn up some music, throw a Need for Speed game in, and just race/drive. I liked in a few of the games the open-world aspect. Because then I could just follow the road. It was just me, the car, and whatever was put in my rearview. 

And then I turned 16, and I lived out this fantasy of being free. Sure, for the first few months I had people in the car with me to make sure I wasn’t reckless. But none of that mattered. Because no matter what they thought of my maybe getting out of control or anything, I knew I wouldn’t. Driving is my world. The only place I’ve ever gone where I feel actually free of everything that stresses me out in the world. 

Nothing else matters when I’m driving. Not a thing. Not school, money, physical pain/longing, stress, family, friends, nothing. It’s probably the only thing I can do for hours on end and not grow tired of being in the same position, save for moving my hands. 

A few years back I drove up to Boston and back after a few days around the city. Everybody kept telling me to take a break, or offered to drive, or whatever. None of them understood that I was perfectly fine. I was in control, the car and I were one. But that’s how it’s always been. 

Whenever I go driving, no matter the vehicle, I become one with it when I’m behind the wheel. It’s an extension of my body. Where I go, it goes. And vice versa. Sure, the car is more powerful, heavy, fast, anything else than I am, but we are one.

Speed means nothing when I’m driving. I’ll drive at 110 on the freeway at 2AM. I’ll do 80 when it’s daytime and I’m just keeping up with traffic. I’ll do 35 when I’m in town and need to take it easy. 

But there’s no better feeling (with clothes on) then putting your foot down and being able to just get out of there, wherever “there” is. 

Stay strong, you must
Carry on, you must
None other can do it but us
the unnamed pillars of the earth
we didn’t ask to be this way, was designated at birth
What I’d give to be normal
to be able to collapse, at the end of a day
cry out to the world, hang my head and say
I need someone’s help, will you be there for me?
But I can’t do that, it’s sad, I can’t bend at the knee
I stand tall above the heavens, holding up the galaxy
High above your heads, when all I want to do is lay
softly and gently, less cares for the world
but that’s the curse of us all
If we move or let go, the world might just fall
If I could only be weaker than I am
then I might feel slightly human
A titan in a mortal land
I touch my face with callused hands
and it feels alien to me
Once upon a time these hands were very soft, gentle
But now they’re barely mine
been holdin’ up your ceilin’
The skin on them ain’t healin’
In fact, they’re bleedin’
but it falls on you like rain
washes away your pain
You pick yourself up, dust yourself off
and move on about your day
But I’m still standing above you, a frown upon my face
my hands unable to move, cannot wipe the tears away.