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…this cause exactly

A quick post regarding a pretty little break up. I wrote it, I felt it, now I’ll share it, though totally over it… lol

The anger,

the hurt,

the blame,

the shame,

I was smart:            but he outwit me.

I stood staring at the text messages. Scrolling. Pondering. remembering.

I never fully trusted him, for this cause exactly.

then

was it my distrust that lead to this cause exactly?

Why couldn’t I trust?      This cause exactly.

I go to express myself.                     Through words                      through thoughts.

Nothing works.           I begin to think rationally               maybe another drink?

to ease this rationale

I’m not one to complain                but then, just like everyone that says that, I write this

Did I make it too comfortable? Did I try too much? Did I allow a change that went too far?

…..I must be delusional!

Was I too cynical? Did I judge too much? Did I never give him a break? Did I ultimately not jive with what he was doing?

What was he doing? Where was this turning point? I know…

I began to resent him. I resented him. I RESENTED HIM

I wanted to spend time: he wanted time alone.

I wanted to go to a movie: it was stupid

I wanted to visit my family: He wasn’t in the mood

I wanted to talk: he wanted to watch his 5th hour of Soprano’s

I wanted to kiss: it was inappropriate/unprofessional

I wanted to go to the store together: He didn’t want to show “effort”

I wanted to spend quality time: He wanted to pretend he had a business starting

…life was shit. Never attention. My ideas always sucked. My conversation was always sub-par. My body was always disgusting. Sex was turned off

yet I loved. I LOVED. I yearned for a text from him in a day. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He always made me laugh. He was wonderful for his advice. He was a good and loyal friend, to his friends. I stayed awake to hear him walk in the door. To welcome him in, to kiss him, and hand him his beer.

But soon that resentment began to creep in. His lies slowly came to the surface. I found it my place as this was now clearly a big part of my life to begin saying things. This never got me anywhere. All it would get me was … no point going there

I’d restrain him. I’d feel bad.

PITY… Never truly knew it as a tool. He made it work. I’d feel bad for the end result. Eventually I didn’t say anything  anymore. He squirmed when I talked, squealed when I squawked, and sneered when I feared.

RESENT: I was so mad. I wanted nothing in this world than to spend time with the man that I loved. He smiled. We laughed. He especially lit up in social gatherings. I saw his strong sides, then saw his weak sides. In his weak sides I wanted to become his strength.

I could’ve. But I speak too much. And in such I spoke to drive him mad. Not with purpose, but it must’ve happened.

He told me. He told me how annoying it was that I voice my opinion. How he already has a mother. How he’s an adult.

I heard, and yet I continued.

In the dying months there were lies about time spent with whom, lies in the form of focusing on family, while truly focusing on another.

I failed this. I ruined this. I mutilated any hope of our survival. Because I spoke.

He was there to catch him.

I, apparently, was there to let him fall.

….. and I regret nothing…..

Thank you for reading,

Caleb A. Mertz

On a Very Different Path

A month and a week has passed now. A month and a week from the time my ties were severed to the greatest relationship I have known. With this separation amidst all of the feelings of aggravation, fear, and hurt; I was able to begin searching for a self that was greater than I had known before. Searching for ways to cope. Something to make me feel better. I couldn’t write in my despair. Nor could I retain enough focus to read. Even this post will be something of almost illegible fashion. I feel the need to write. I must get back to feeling myself. Like I’m contributing. Like I have purpose.

I have had many instances of literary genius in this time. Yet it can’t be counted as literary genius if it never made it to paper. Time swirls past me much like the leaves do now as I jog in the morning. That’s been a good start. I jog now. It’s been five consecutive days, and I feel great.

My job is what I had been getting up for in the mornings. The morning of the past three years. When the love is gone, yet you keep going for the comfort of it, you need something to get you up in the morning. My job has always been the thing that has inspired me. My muse, if you will. I now read over the last two sentences and laugh. I laugh at how my life could have been formed to swirl solely among and around a restaurant. Writing has been my passion. Something that I love to do. Some may say I am horrible at it. If this is the first or the last thing they ever read from me, I may have no choice to agree. My rhythm is off. Short sentences to long almost run on sentences. Stream of consciousness then well thought out prose.

What if I pick it all up and go? San Diego. She looks like a beautiful place to go. I believe that there are many signs wishing me to go there as well. The second I began thinking about it even the most random of people would tell me their son was driving out there. Or someone just got a job out there. Or “my God, I wish I was in San Diego.” Random conversations from guests. Then I log onto Craigslist and my location is randomly set at, you guessed it; San Diego.

I will admit, it couldn’t happen as quickly as I would like it to. I have debts here that I need to settle before I can go. I also have a big book release coming up that I absolutely must do here.

The best moment of my turn around was when I was telling a new found friend good bye. We hugged and I kissed him on the cheek, like I do with all of my friends. He kissed my cheek. I went to back out of the hug when our lips met. It was quick, brief, and releasing. My first instinct was to feel guilty, but the moment I knew i didn’t feel that way I was emancipated from the horrid feeling of not getting over it. Thank you friend.

Thank you for reading this. Whether you made it through all the way or not!

Caleb A. Mertz