#londoncalling FOLLOW UP

i’m a fucking idiot. but not for the reasons i last wrote about. maybe it’s being back on my home turf, maybe it’s the real food talking, or a nice hot shower after 26 hours of traveling.

it’s probably from talking to great friends and getting some feedback other than my own voices in my head bickering back and forth. SCREW THEM. I’M TAKING ALL THE CREDIT.

AND THE BLAME.

i’m a fucking twatwaffle.

jesus holy hell did i fuck the last post up.

let’s all just take a minute to enjoy this moment of clarity that comes after removing my head from my own ass, shall we?

let’s play a little game called: “BACK THE FUCK UP BITCH.”

remember that first day when new york called me? those few, brief moments between what he actually called me for and the fucking circus that i turned it into?

LET’S EXPLORE THAT. SHALL WE?

i’m a fucking idiot. _ME_ of all people should have caught on a little sooner. fuck.

let’s go back to the very first conversation: "hey, how is everything going? things are going shitty for me. just need somebody to talk to." 

marriage: over, father passed away, 7 month deployment, needed a friend to talk to.

oh jesus did i fuck this up.
 
how did i take all that and twist it into this fucking all about me story?

an old friend reached out in the middle of a horrible, HORRIBLE shit storm and i just added more shit to it.

fuck. me. running.

i’ve been there. did the marriage going to shit. done the father passing away. never had to deal with the whole being at war for 7 months thing- can’t even begin to imagine.

and i somehow twisted all that into a poor me, i spent money on lingerie that went unused pity party? holy fuck. how did i fuck that one up?
 
i have a friend going through the worst shit life can throw at a person and i want to be pissy about not going to a cafe for tea and mother fucking crumpets?

i can’t even begin to tell you how sick to my stomach i feel right now. i fucked this up royally.

add in that he's in a crazy amount of pain that even prescription medications won't take an edge off? or that the one time he did get his back to pop and it made him pass out and fall sleep for the next 10 hours...

funny thing? i just wrote a fucking magazine article about being there for soldiers that come home from war.

awesome.

i’m a fucking idiot.

worst part? hindsight is a fucking bitch. he’s been trying to tell me- talked about trying to find friends. talked about how he spent seven months sending planes off to do bomb runs- feeling that in a way he’s responsible for the deaths of hundreds, thousands of people. talking about how strange things were going to texas for his fathers services and having to deal with his step mom.

and i got mad over what?

he wanted a friend. i’ve been his friend for eight years.

THAT IS ALL THIS TRIP SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABOUT.

_I_ alone added all the other crap to it. _I_ alone fucked it all up by trying to make it something he’s not ready to deal with in any way, shape or form. _I_ fucked up royal.

SO.

i’m going to bed. i’m going to sleep. i’m going to try to figure out how to repair this fuck up and be the friend that he’s been asking for from the very beginning.

the rest may or may not come in time. THAT DOESN’T MATTER RIGHT NOW. what matters right now is that i have a friend in need. he came to me for support and i need to give that to him without all my baggage and crap attached.

honestly- switch shoes for a minute: if he had come to see me after my dad passed away and dropped on me what i just did to him- how would that have gone? and that was *JUST* a death. not the death after a deployment in the middle of a marriage issue.

perspective is a powerful thing- the picture can take on a whole different meaning when you take the time to look at it just a little different.

SO. i’ll say it again. dont get used to it- last time it will ever happen: I FUCKED UP. i made this my own twisted fairlytale bullshit. and i’m going to try like fuck to fix it.