Holding Tight

How is it, with one less wife and half a week without a child, I now have almost no free time? It's not because I have to do all my own cooking, cleaning and laundering, because I pretty much did the lion's share of that toward The End, anyway.

It's pretty simple: I have a life again. I have a social calendar. I have new commitments. I have "things to do." And they hardly ever include poker.

The times in my life when I've been most prolific at the writing thing were when I was in the worst mental and emotional shape. Both divorces brought out my poison pen, those circular arguments in my head being transferred to papyrus for therapy, for relief. And if I'm a little humiliated at some of the unexpurgated stuff that made it into this little corner of Al Gore's internet, at least I could write with passion. Needed that outlet.

And now? Well, I'm kinda stuck. Why? Because I'm happy. Tilt moments are little more than gnats and I easily brush away X's latest--almost daily--inappropriate actions. She can't hurt me any more. Can't even touch me. And while I'm certain she's harming AJ with her carrying on, I am equally sure that I can adequately compensate and fix what ails him on my end.

The thing about it is, I don't wanna talk here about all that's going on.

You? Mr. Let-It-All-Hang-Out?

Yep. I want these things to stay mine for a little longer. I want to keep them for myself and the others involved. I'm not comfortable shining the blog light on any of it just yet. Trust me, I tried. Yet, in the end, simply deleted about six hours worth of rambling. Because it's not time yet. Not ripe enough. So many wonderful experiences lately, from my trips, to my renewed and better-than-ever relationship with AJ to...well...the stuff you don't know about yet. Alright, fine. I won't be a totally coy jagoff: I met someone. She's lovely. Inside and out. And every time she leaves, I miss her more strongly than before.

But it's not just her. It's a shifting. Tectonic plates, man. I'm talking internal stuff here. And I could not be more fucking excited. Just wish I was still able to write.