It is frightening how much I ponder ending it all. The past 10 years has been a constant struggle, not a whole lot of "up" times. I can honestly say that I was much happier 10 years ago, full of hope.
There was a reunion party but I did not go...could not go if I wanted to. Would not go if I could, I already see the Facebook, real or not, that displays their success in the face of my...well...not failure...just not as much success. (I really sound like a unappreciative bitch)
One of the tenants of stoicism is "development of self control to overcome destructive emotions". Specifically, "to be free from anger, envy and jealousy". On that count, I am not doing so well, I am no sage.
I have a nice house, not a mansion but who has/needs a fucking mansion?
I have cars, not nice cars and one needs to be replaced very soon, but who needs nice cars?
I have my own business, not successful I have a pile of bills and a lack of money, but I have kept it going for 8 years!
I have a family, yes they all still live at home and they have all taken a bit longer to get life started then I would have liked, but they love me and I love them and what the fuck is success anyway?
I have a wife, we disagree on a lot and basically live in a sexless relationship, we both know that I have been cheating but we don't really broach the subject, if we admitted to it I would be free to leave and she would be free to hate me for leaving and we would both be alone and the kids would be upset and we cannot afford the house and an apartment anyway and she would have to work and she has no job history or marketable skills to speak of and all the dreams we had when we were younger would be out the window and our kids will grow up like we did with parents that live apart...
But fuck it...it's just life...we get another try at it right?...right?
It's not like there is another person out there for me.
Even when I am feeling "up" I still think of death...I imagine me smiling as the pain from the heart attack rips through my arm..."Finally," I whisper as I lay down in a pool of sweat grasping my left arm, "finally it's over."
Should I leave. "I haven't' loved you for many years Earl..." just be honest and leave. Will that bring me the happiness that I desire? That new, fresh, clean start with all the baggage that comes with it...sitting alone in my apartment wondering why the fuck we split up in the first place and watching the life I was suppose to live slip away...
Should I stay but really TRY...what does "try" mean. Have I been not trying? I have all but ended the cheating, the other life, I have no one anymore that is a real viable option for that...(I dream but there is no one out there).
What does it matter anyway, my lot has been cast, I am where I am in this life. I have people and things that depend on me, rely on me, need me. I am needed...therefore I am wanted...I am a weird purvey, morally flexible, sex addicted, lonely, unhappy, (getting) old man...I am where I am and I should just accept this fact and Sisyphus my way to the ever after.
Sorry for such a downer post...next time I will expound poetically on the subject of ass licking...with the right partner and a good shower, it's kind of amazing on both the giving and receiving end...literally!