“She said ‘I love you and I want to spend my life with you.’ Then ten days later, we sat in a diner, and she said ‘I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
“What was your happiest moment with her?”
“The happiest times were just little moments of exuberance. Like when she jumped on my back because something swam up against her in the ocean. Or when we danced in the kitchen when the pizza arrived”
“I call myself bisexual because I acknowledge that I have in myself the potential to be attracted — romantically and/or sexually — to people of more than one sex and/or gender, not necessarily at the same time, not necessarily in the same way and not necessarily to the same degree.”
I miss everything about you.
"We’re getting divorced because we love each other, and we both realize that we don’t have enough of what the other needs. When we decided to get divorced, I wrote a note with all the things I loved about her, and gave it to her. She got very emotional and started crying. Then three days later, she wrote me a similar note. But here’s the thing—- she wrote it on the back of a recycled piece of paper. She wrote it on the back of an advertisement or something. So I called her out on it. And she said: ‘I knew you were going to bring that up. If you cared, you wouldn’t mind what it was written on.’ And I said: ‘Well, if you cared, you’d have gotten a fresh piece of paper.’"
transitioning back to my problems being only my problems
Day #2 in Austin, Texas:
Staying at a hostel. Woke up at 4am because it felt like something was crawling around on my head. It was a giant cockroach. Grabbed the mini trash can, shoved the roach in, tied the bag, and took the trash out. Tried to go back to sleep.
Talked to two guys at breakfast. One guy was a braggy mechanic and the other was in construction, which is not what he’d imagined for himself. He said if he could pick another career path he doesn’t know what he would pick.
Off to my first day of work…