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Oh shit. I’ve jumped the shark.

February 18, 2014

I’ve been pondering for a couple of weeks whether my saga with TLTL had jumped the shark, taken an amazingly complicated and ridiculous tale and adulterated it to the extent of redundancy and nuisance.

Because of course, I’m giving TLTL another chance. And this time, yes, I can safely say I’ve jumped the shark… as in I’ve already jumped it. Weeks ago. Months ago. This shit is already old. Correspondences with The Foreigner have sort of made that clear, so I suspect I’ll write a shit ton less of the epic stupidity that is everything connected to TLTL here, one way or another, unless something spectacularly amazing or disturbing happens.

This morning, I am pruning indoor plants. It’s 5am. I’m listening to to the first mix-tape that v2.0 ever sent me… just around this time, 14 years ago. It opens with David Byrne’s “Strange Ritual.” I am enthralled. It’s the first time I’ve listened to it in many years, and I remember moments walking across town listening to my Aiwa headset and wearing  my ridiculous wool sweater-coat while the icy late winter slush slowly soaked me to the bone. Back then, I was still facing the sadness of having to see the trampy bitch who had been fucking my fiance for several months – she lived across the hall. Every day was a fight against gravity it seemed, but I’d have glimpses – the tiniest flashes  – of hope and happiness when I thought of how wonderfully strange v2.0 was. Everything he showed me was a fascination, and nothing he did ever seemed ostentatious or pretentious.

14 years ago, I was on Effexor, Wellbutrin, Haldol, and Klonopin. I don’t remember what else, or what I was on at what time, but I remember my asshole of a doctor liked to change things. Nothing he gave me made a difference. I still stared through lectures in classes I don’t remember taking. I was already a few years into my friendship with The Foreigner, and we emailed a lot. He had a girlfriend that thought he was cheating on her with me, though in reality we have only ever been friends and after all this time have never seen each other in person, excepting one video chat. I wonder if his partner now knows I exist. I wonder if I matter enough to be worth mentioning to his partner in the first place. I find myself wishing for my fairy tale ending between him and I after all this time. I seriously need a hobby other than falling for people head over heels.

Things weren’t very different 14 years ago than they are now. Though 14 years ago, I lived more than 60 miles from v2.0, I now find myself living a two minute drive from where his home was back then. Everything But The Girl’s ‘Single,’ starts playing on the mix tape and I think of all the partners I’ve loved that chose to no longer love me as I look out the kitchen window and watch heavy snow fall.

Like I don’t always connect…
Like I don’t always connect…

I miss the bodega around the block from our first apartment together. It was dim, without windows even – or so it seemed – but open earlier than all the others nearby. I looked and ate like a teenager, but dressed in a suit and carried a briefcase. I looked like I did not belong on the subway before 6am. I listened this particular mix-tape a lot back then. It’s one of approximately 12 I took with me when we moved into a 450 sq ft studio together. Half of them were Cure tapes. A third were the mix-tape collection from v2.0. The others were a multi-varied mish-mash of The Melvins, Dig, The Cocteau Twins, and Silverchair.

Life was different then.

It was a lot like it is now.

…  Shrug.

v2.0 is a heroin addict again these days, but I can’t deny that he always made an excellent mix tape and made the best weekend-mornings-with-orange juice-and-The-Times’-crossword-puzzles partner.

I do much easier crossword puzzles alone now.

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