It Started with a Heart Break…
But isn’t that how all crazy journeys start? Nobody ever has a grand adventure or goes on a life changing quest because everything is “okey dokey” in their life. These past two years have been turbulent for me to say the least. Between living alone in New Mexico, leaving the job of my dreams along with the people I loved behind, getting a divorce (however amicable, it’s still hard to go through), being stuck in quarantine like the rest of the world, selling my house, and having a massive breakup I’d say I’d been put through the ringer.
Fig 1. A Picture of My Mental State
As I write this, I’m currently in Camarillo with my heart breaker (I say that endearingly… kind of) and her son who has become like a child to me. We’ll refer to her as “Alexis” to give her privacy and because she asked me to name her after her favorite character from “Schitt’s Creek.” At the end of the month they will be moving back to Louisiana to be closer to family and the other children, which leaves me all alone in an expensive rental with no furniture.
Son of a bitch… this is gonna suck.
There’s still laughs, tears, awkward coffee breaks, moments of frustration, tickle fights, and hikes (lots of hiking… more hiking than we ever did as a couple, which I’m 90% sure we’re both sussing out how feasible it is to throw each other off a cliff). Dissolving a life is messy. It’s a very surgical process made even more complicated by the fact that she sorta kinda cheated on me.
I’ll spare you the dramatic description of how earth shattering it was.
Was I crushed? Absolutely.
Did I question all of my life’s choices? Absolutely.
Did I live off Red Bulls and Graham crackers for days? Yuuuup.
Did I develop shingles from the stress of it all? Not yet.
Ultimately, her happiness and her children’s wellbeing are her priority and it is what it is. This isn’t to be some martyr of love, I absolutely love this woman, but she is a shell of a human being without her children around. Selfishly, I could keep her here, but she would never be whole. Why would I want to love half a person? I think of relationships as flowers: you can pick it and have it die or you could leave it alone, give it some occasional water, and let it grow. It’s about love, not possession, therefore as much as it hurts me I have to put them before myself and take only sweet memories. So it was decided to depart and remain great friends; it doesn’t make it any less sad. She told me this, of course, the day before my birthday and the day I was supposed to close escrow on my house… but I mean she’s totally not a bad person, I just need to lay the guilt on there real thick. 😉
Besides, it’s not like I’m lying around crying while playing “I Can’t Make You Love Me” (Bon Iver’s cover) on repeat while I cry into my pillow. No… I have since moved on to playing every Taylor Swift song in existence while I flip through my photo albums. PROGRESS! But I digress… back to the true reason for this project. This is not a love story.. This is not a monument to the life she and I had, but rather an experiment in self-love and finding oneself. Rather, I had to learn to love myself again. This is a SELF Love Story. I had to put myself first, after perpetually putting others before me. I am a Serial Giver.
So instead of getting a dog to cope with this new change, like a sane person, I decided to travel the United States and document my experiences along the way. COVID-conscious, of course. As I stated before, I no longer had a home to go back to. I sold it as part of my divorce. As for my furniture and worldly possessions? I sold those too. I found myself with an RV, two cars, two motorcycles, two dogs, and a desk… what good was having all those vehicles without a house to store it in? Plus I had ZERO idea of where I wanted to live anyways. I absolutely adore Camarillo/Ventra County. I have access to beaches, a wonderful jiu jitsu gym, a great CrossFit gym, amazing flying experiences, dog parks, hiking trails, etc. I am in HEAVEN here… but due to COVID rental houses are very scarce, nor do I want to be in this house once full of happy memories all alone.
So what would you do with no possessions, a job that you can telework, no dependents, and money from a house sale? Travel and find out where you want to hang your hat at the end of the day!
So here I am, motivated… bold… willing, like the “Little Dumpster Fire That Could,” ready to embark on an incredible journey of adventure and self-discovery.
Go Lil Dumpster Fire, Go!!!
Fig 2. Hers and Hers Dumpster Fire Set. Makes for a great wedding cake topper.
