The only thing I'm insanely good at in life is making a big, disaster-like mess out of good things. The opposite of King Midas, if you will.

I have enough money to escape for a good amount of time and I'm seriously considering it.

My tum hurts in a way that is all too familiar and I don't like it.

I haven't felt healthy in a month.

I feel like an idiot.. dancing, singing, swaying to Lucero covering Jawbreaker's "Kissed the Bottle." Slurring, screaming, trying to sing each word like a goddamn idiot. If I knew then what I know now.. I would have been quiet, humble, appreciative. I kissed the bottle, I should've been kissing you. You're 33 and a makeout whore. I hope you're escapades with Jack, Jose, and Captain mean more. I'll never triumph over alcohol's alluring trap. I'm not proud enough to try and not stupid enough to hope. In a lopsided competition, I'm throwing up a white flag.

.. a year in the past, forever in the future.

Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of our first date. I can't say I haven't been dramatically thinking of it, daydreaming if you will, trying to hastily remember the day. Your Craigslist Missed Connection to me jogged my memory and it'd be a lie to say I didn't fight back tears while reading it. A sweet gesture, but a shallow and empty one at that. Too little, too late. That's an understatement if I've ever seen.. it's more like much too little, and much too late, in the very least.

I'm not so sure if I'll ever again feel the way I did about you with someone else and that is a double-edged sword in the broadest sense. I've never been so attracted, intrigued and immersed in someone as I was with you. On the contrary, I've never wanted, wished, hoped and even prayed for the implosion of someone's life and well being as I did for you. I've never wanted to smash a bottle and stab the tiniest shards deep into the innards of a throat more than I have wished to do to you, making sure each piece had no way of escaping.. sort of like all the painful memories of being mistreated, abused, taken advantage of and belittled. My only saving grace within this train of thought is that I know, for sure, someone will love me more than you did. And I know, for sure, I'll embrace it with my whole being.. the way I've always done.

My memories of you have become vacant and distant. For awhile, I relentlessly saw you everywhere, figuratively, of course. As much as it was nice to reminisce of cliche good times, it was also painful that certain songs, city views and jokes harbored you within them.. between the melodies, grids of houses and bellowing laughter. As time progresses, I now realize that I'm starting to forget you in a very good way. Truth be told, I scarcely remember you. Ryan Adams' menacing voice and choruses keep my solo drives company and fill my small suv with memories of the SouthWest. The beautiful view of Buffalo from my roof is no longer screaming of you.. instead, it echoes of good times with even better friends. Jokes, well, certain jokes can't be replaced.. but, in all honesty, you've become the biggest one.

So much has drastically changed in a year. What a shitstorm. What a whirlwind of emotions. I can't say I've ever felt so broken, battered, torn and down.. but in the same sense, I feel like I'm the tiniest bit stronger. Just a tiny bit, nothing elaborate or completely life altering or devastatingly wonderful. Nothing of that sort at all. Yet. Just a little bit stronger, and that's okay. I suppose it's more than okay.

Lessons learned. Tough lessons learned.

I'm entirely grateful for leaving 99.9% of my baggage scattered throughout Nevada.. strewn about Utah.. littered in Colorado and moderately displaced between every state and the New York state line. I feel like this is the end and a great beginning is upon every horizon I decide to view. Best feeling ever.

Buffalo sucks. I see Joe everywhere. Not literally, but figuratively.. I don't know which is worse. He ruined me. I realized I can't be the fun drunk without tagging along the angry/bitter/dramatic drunk. Drinking used to be one of my favorite social things.. now it's ruined and just something I dread because I'll get bummed and pissy. I guess this is when I realize drinking isn't for me and I should be playing Scrabble in Delaware Park. I'm glad I have friends that encourage such behavior, but at the same time I'm irate for him taking that one vice from me.

Oh well. I need to get over this. I thought a trip out west would cure me of such ailments, but as every state passed I grew sicker and sicker.. filling up with the vacant feeling of home. I don't really have a home. Apparently, my home was a desolate, cold, empty apartment with an empty fridge. What's home about that? I think Ohio would be a nice home. I mean, yes, I would be living with my parents and succumbing to the twenty-something defeat. But, in all realty, I'd be so much closer to nailing a great job and finishing school. I'd feel a little loved, which is a significant step up from not loved at all.

I recently lost my best friend and I'm a little okay with it. Guy best friends are never best friends when they want to sleep with you. Especially when they want to do it as a notch on their belt.. a trophy, if you will. I did it once, and lesson learned. Never ever ever again. Whoa is me, but then again, I'm a fool for thinking otherwise. Lessons learned, lessons learned.

I feel a little like I don't have friends anymore. I've been pulling teeth for emotions and "how are you's" and "what's wrong" and I'm slightly exhausted. I kind of want to rebuttle with "fuck you's" and "fine be miserables" but that's rude. But I'm literally exhausted. Completely exhausted. For the first time in my life, I'm eagerly anticipating school so I can hibernate surrounded by professionally written text books and good grades and the furious scramble of Fall semester and not give a fuck about anyone but myself.. for once.

I can't stomach being here for much longer. He ruined me. I've never felt so angry or broken. I feel like no one wants to hear it and I understand that.. but I also feel like.. fuck, where do you turn then?

Every song I hear that reminds me of him makes me sick to my stomach. Every memory, every smell, every inside joke.. I'm sick.

I hope this cross-country road trip with Court pans out because I need it to at least feel a little bit sane.

I wish I never burned my bridges with Scott. I want to take that all back and I've never known the feeling of someone being completely done with me until him. I wish I could convince him otherwise.

I wish my mind wasn't such a jumbled mess of hurt and anger and complete and utter brokenness. Furthermore, I wish I was my old self. I have never been the one to be negative and lately I've only been seeing red.

So you threaten to ruin my life if I even talk to your friends.. but you're going for a "guys weekend" with one of my good friends. A friend that would literally kill you if he knew what you did to me. A friend I was too embarrassed to tell of how you pushed me around, stalked me, harassed me and basically broke me down to nothing. You're fucked up. And maybe he's a little fucked up, too, after I told him you weren't a good person and he still pursues a friendship with you.

I wish Nick was here. He's the only person I really trust lately.

Sometimes I wonder how many more of these encounters I have to stomach before I reach the real thing. I don't like meandering the streets of Buffalo and seeing 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon of my sexual past. I need to cool my jets, be more selective, blah blah blah. I just need something solid that isn't going to kiss the back of my head while I pretend to sleep.. yet never text/call me again.

I wish people were more up front. When directly asked, I am entirely 100% up front about absolutely anything.

Tonight I felt okay. Good, even. Amazing, possibly. I came home and shittalked and chainsmoked with Nick and was great. No sneaking boys in. No awkward morning afters. Just me. And Pete. And Nick.

I don't want to move out of this apartment. Come August 31st I literally have no home. Nick is moving in with Jon and I'm alone. As much as I want a cute little apartment, I'd rather have what I have now. I just don't like change. Lacey found a beautiful dog for me and I just need someone to watch it for 2 months while I ride out this lease. A cane corso. A fabulous watch dog/companion that I could probably ride to the corner store if I was too lazy. What a beast. I wish my life would just fall into place like a Connect 4 board game. Oh blah.

In less than 3 weeks I will be driving from Las Vegas to Buffalo. I hope I don't come back. I know I always dramatically say that, but I mean it. I want to be left in some hobunk town wearing cowboy boots and eating at greasy spoon diners forever. Buffalo just doesn't feel the same much anymore. Actually, I'm not sure what it's supposed to feel like. Hm, I just don't think this.