It's been a while since I've posted. Mostly because I'm afraid what would come out of me if I tried to post again.

Because I haven't updated The Corsair Journal for so long, I'm sure that anybody who ever followed it isn't anymore. Fine by me, really. The Journal was really more an exercise for helping me set some of my private thoughts and feelings, someplace where I thought it was safe to unburden myself, sort of a latter-day confessional where I could shed most of my identity and write private thoughts in a public space. I've always thought of that notion as surrealistically ironic, and I suppose that's why it appealed to me. I also loved writing in here every day because it gave me a chance to practice writing. I love writing, and get to do it so infrequently outside of here. I feel rusty.

The problem that I've really had, where it's been so difficult for me to get back into a rhythm of writing every day, is that I fear that the fire has gone out.

Regular readers of The Journal know that I've been through a divorce in the last two years. Personal friends know that it wasn't my first.

Since then I've been hiding. In Facebook, mostly, posting bullshit, meaningless political rants in between pictures of my new home, y'know, to keep the family and friends up to date. But nothing so deep or so personal that it would break the surface and expose anything deeper or more meaningful to me. I'm afraid to go there, with my public persona.

A fellow journaleer, tryss, said something to me a while back that's really stuck with me. I'll paraphrase a bit, but it goes something like this: "Losing a loved one is like being hit by a train. You put yourself back together, but the pieces don't really quite fit." I'll amend that by saying that one is lucky to find enough of the pieces in the first place such that you're even recognizable.

I sure don't feel recognizable.

Butterfly took something very important from me. She took from me my ability to love and trust with my whole heart, without fear. That part of me was so badly damaged by the train wreck that, despite my best attempts to put it back together, to make it operate properly without endangering the heart of someone who has entrusted theirs to me--I still don't feel wholly confident that the repair job I've put on it is good enough.

There's someone new in my life now. We've been together for about six months now; we share a house, and we love each other very, very much. She is one of the most loving, trusting, caring, generous, beautiful souls I've encountered to date, and our similarities and compatibility make me and my heart smile broadly when I think about her. But she's also a living, breathing person, with a fragile heart and feelings. I never have had to remind myself of that, and I find it unnerving that I have to. She has entrusted her heart to me, and I have endeavored to be worthy of that trust. It feels good. It feels right.

But though the sutures are long gone, the scars are still very, very angry pink. They hurt when I touch them. Every once in a while I hold back a grimace when something touches me in a certain place, or when I hear a song I used to sing to her, or a song that she used to sing.to me. I've excised Butterfly from my life, as she has me from hers. We haven't set eyes upon one another in over a year. It doesn't abate the hurt, and it feels like an eternity ago. Even so, the places where she and I were once joined are still tender and sore, and I'm angry that they are. I suppose that not enough time has passed. There are still places in my head that I don't dare go, rooms that I've locked and won't open, for fear of the memories that I'll unleash and the agony I'll feel anew.

I know that's unhealthy, but simultaneously, I know it's normal to feel this way. I also know that my problems are not unique, and I'm angry at myself for constantly droning on about them here, this place that used to be my shelter, my respite. One would think that I believe that I'm the first guy who has ever suffered a broken heart.

Someday I might be comfortable enough to go back into the rooms in my head where the good memories are, and I'm amazed how difficult it was for me to type that when half of me wants to simply erase from my head every memory of that life. That I'm even willing to acknowledge that I still retain those memories, and resign myself to the fact that I can never rid myself of them--and express the thought that I may even revisit them someday--is at least a baby step in the right direction. At this point, a year and a half later, I'll take what little victories I can get.

Getting back in the rhythm

I really miss writing every day. I've got to get back in the rhythm of writing every day again. I just have to discipline myself to do it.

Speaking of rhythm, I'm separating myself from my Karaoke partner. I'm giving KJ German his rig back, now that I've acquired my own. I'll still be doing my once-a-week show, but I have my own rig now. It was a long time coming, but I finally managed to put together the pieces.


I'm in class all day today. I'm attending class at FAU for my VMware 5 certification. It's actually a re-sit; I started the class in October just as I moved out of my house. Naturally, my mind was elsewhere during much of the class. So, they're being nice enough to let me re-sit it. I'm told I can resit the course as many times as I need to to pass the exam. Cool, no?
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Slowly coming around

This is the first time I've felt like writing a journal entry in a long time. Quite a lot has happened, none of which I really want to talk about in any great detail.

Future self, if you're reading this entry years from now, I really hope you're in a better place. I know I am, slowly, healing the wounds left me as my divorce recedes further and further into the rear-view mirror.

tryss said something a few entries back that was pretty profound, something that I've not forgotten and am not likely to forget. She said that it's like being hit by a train. You can find most of the pieces of yourself, but you'll never find them all. And you'll never be able to put yourself back together completely, exactly the same way that you were before.

In my case I think I ended up being a bit more fragile, and while I haven't totally lost my ability to trust, it's certainly notched up the difficulty level by a few dice.
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A text I want to send to Butterfly

I woke up this morning, and my first thoughts were of you, as they always are and always were. I was thinking about you, wondering how you are, wondering if you missed me, wondering how you were coping with our breakup--the same way I have every morning for nearly three weeks. It's automatic. So automatic that I momentarily forgot all about the exchange we had Monday night.

Monday night was the very first time ever in our history I was completely overwhelmed by anger and hurt and resentment instead of the deep love I've long had for you for the past six years.

And I hate it. And I hate you.

I hate you for throwing my love away, for throwing my life away. I hate you for taking my love and giving back very little in return, and making me constantly beg for what little you did manage to squeeze out of your heart of stone.

I hate you for robbing me of all those years of my life, years I could have put to far more productive use than catering to you and supporting you, especially in the current light of just low little it seems to actually have been appreciated.

And I resent you deeply because I feel this way, because I feel such incredible pain, I feel used and abandoned and completely, utterly betrayed, particularly considering that I once did love you so very deeply--with every part of me.

I hope you're able to forgive yourself someday--that is, if you are even capable of feeling that there's anything to forgive yourself for. If you're even capable of feeling -anything.-

I know that I certainly cannot forgive you for shattering me so. Maybe, someday, I might be able to.

But not today. Not for a long time.
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Monday was a no good, very bad day.

Butterfly told me, in no uncertain terms, that she's in love with another man--and that, more than any other single factor, is the reason she wants me gone from her life.

Prior, I begged her to tell me why; why is it that she would choose a life of hardship and struggling and poverty over repairing a marriage to me that I had absolutely no desire to end? What did I do? What didn't I do? What could I have done differently? I was going crazy for weeks wondering why this was happening, why my world was falling apart. Please, I implored Butterfly, please tell me what I did so I don't take that baggage with me into my next relationship and make the same mistakes all over again.

I have come to the realization that I have done exactly nothing. I did nothing to deserve this. I did nothing wrong. Even by Butterfly's own admission, I'm a good husband, a good friend, and a good provider. 

I loved Butterfly. Unconditionally. I never, not once in six years, ever raised my voice or a hand to her in anger. Hell, I've never really been truly angry with her, not once, in six years. Annoyed? yes. Angry? Upset? Never. And I can say that honestly. the number of times we actually fought--fought, the way most people would think of as a fight--I can count on one hand without exaggerating.

Butterfly told me that not only was she in love with this other man, but that she cannot fathom being with anybody other than him. Additionally, she told me that she knew that we were incompatible and wrong for each other from the very beginning.

Yes. She actually told me that. That information would've been highly useful to me six years ago--or even five years ago, when she let me put a goddamn ring on her finger.

She also went on to tell me that she should've walked away years ago. But she didn't. She "guessed that she hoped things would get better." 

My ex mother-in-law says that I absolutely did not deserve this; that I was always supremely good to Butterfly and her family. My 21-year-old ex-stepson told me that he believes that I got a raw deal, and he's plenty mad at his "reptilian" mother for kicking me to the curb. And I believe they're right. I don't deserve this. I love my extended family all very deeply, and this is tearing me apart. 

I am left with a shattered marriage, a shattered heart, and a shattered sense of self worth. And I deserve better.

Butterfly will be made to pull the trigger on this marriage. I made it absolutely clear to her in no uncertain terms that she is filing for divorce. She is paying the filing fees. She is filling out the paperwork. She is going to end this marriage. Not me. 

I didn't want this. I never wanted this. After all I've done to support her and her family, I deserve much better.


I had a date last night.

For the very first time in over six years, I had a date. A genuine, honest-to-goodness date.

And it was a fun date, too. A successful date. I will have more dates with this person, to who I have yet to assign a pseudonym.

* * *

I also went to the Italian Festival in Jupiter with Sunshine (this wasn't the date--it was before the date) and a Karaoke couple who are regulars at my Friday night show. That was a whole lot of fun! We watched a cooking demonstration, and had some good food. Funny, though, even though we are all into music, we didn't stay for the free concert.


I'm so tired of crying. So tired.


I'm on a break in my VMware class. I don't want to take another Xanax. It's the only thing that makes me feel normal, but I don't want to be an addict. I took a quarter of one Monday, and I don't want another one.


I have to try to ride this out on my own.


I just know that whatever it is inside me that keeps making 'cry,' it keeps making more and more. I just want it to stop.



It's good to get back into the rhythm of writing every day. I really missed it.

Last night I went to Hollywood's Young Circle ArtPark, with a couple that I've been friends with for a while. Last night was their weekly Food Truck Extravaganza, which they hold every Monday night from 5:30pm to 8:30pm.

It was awesome!

I had some of the best fish tacos I've ever had. I was extremely impressed with the event--this would be a perfect event to take a date to.