*Long Exhale*

It's been a while. Can't say there's much new. I'm still a wreck (maybe more now than ever before). As the holidays draw closer, and the ignorant become even more-so, I feel the urge to run building again. Every morning listening to that old truck idling in her parking space. I yearn for freedom. This oppressive civilization keeps pushing me back. Sometimes I wonder why we continue to live. As far as I can see, in the end, all we really do is die. The time in between is spent getting as much as we can gather. Measured by how much we die with, instead of the marks we leave when we go. My patience is running out, every day my fuse gets shorter. I'm angry  more and more. I'm annoyed repeatedly. I'm falling into the void I knew only a few short years ago. If I don't find salvation soon, I fear there may not be much longer for me. No idea if that's a metaphor or not.

I can't say I'm thankful for much today. You might say "Well, you have a roof over your head and a job right? Family? Friends?" Sure, but honestly, I think I'd prefer the cold embrace of eternal sleep, there's something missing, and without it, life loses it's meaning. I know you don't understand that, you cant understand it, and I won't ask you to try. Just promise me that no-one with cry at my funeral.

Never Again.

The walls are going up. Defenses turned on. I'm never going to allow myself to fall so far for anyone again. This is killing me. I miss her so fucking much that I don't want to live any longer. Give me an out right now, and I'd take it. I don't care if it's the cowards way. Go ahead. Call me weak, because that's exactly what I am. Six months later and I still wake up thinking about her. Six months later and I still cry when I see how well she's doing, because all I want to do it hold her in my arms and tell her how proud I am of her. All I want is to see her one last time. To hold her. One last time. To hear her whisper "I love you." One. Last. Time. In fact, that's probably the only reason I haven't found a way to end it, because I want to say everything I should have said that day. I want to see her smile. One. Last. Time. I'm so fucked up. Feel sorry for the next girl to wander into my life, because she's going to wander into a fucked up mess. A mess she can't untangle. A mess she'll never understand, because I won't let her in. I won't let another soul in. For as long as I live, it's simply not worth it.

There's a major problem with saving angels. Once you break the chains that bind their wings, they want to fly, unfortunately for me, I'm stuck here in hell. No wings. No hope.

By a thread.

The last couple of months have been....tedious. I feel like I'm falling apart. One second I say "Screw it, I'm done being the hero." Then the next second I say "I have no voice in the matter, I'll be the hero until the day I die." Who even knows what's real anymore?

I've had a lot of moments in the last week or so, where I should have said something, but didn't. The most recent just last night. "Where are those girls anyway?" "Skiing in New Zealand." (A moment of quiet.) "There isn't even anything to add to that." So nothing was added. It was left at that. Know what I wanted to say though? "I miss her." But I didn't, because I know that I have to let her go. I'm living with the regret that I never got to tell her everything that I wanted to. The regret that I'm too broken to fight anymore. I don't even think I know how.

I'm trying to get her out of my mind, but in the silences of the night, the only thing I can think about is everything I don't have. When do us good guys get our chance? When do I get my chance?

I'm getting over it, slowly, day by day. I've come to a final conclusion. I have one last chance at redemption. I've done a lot of bad things in my life. I've caused a lot of pain. There's a lot of things that I'm not proud of. Things that I would really rather forget.

One last chance. One final, desperate grasp at something that I feel I more than deserve, and if this doesn't work...well then...I really don't know. For once, I just don't have the answers.

One final thing before I close this up. Where ARE those girls? I've come to believe that they might not exist. For those of you wondering what type of girls I refer to, I'm talking about the girl that likes to have fun. The ones that can rock with the best of them, air guitars while driving, isn't afraid of a little mud, blood, sweat and tears. The ones that not only hand you a wrench, but helps you turn it under the hood. The ones that call shotgun just as loud as the boys, and rides in the middle seat. The DJ's that know what to play on a roadtrip. Someone please fill me in on where they're at, because I'm starting to believe that they don't exist anymore.

"Save me from losing myself, I'm hanging on by a thread. Can you see who I am, underneath my scars?" -The Letter Black, Hanging on by a Thread.

Forever the Hero...

Yesterday morning, I posted my Anti-Hero tirade, a near oath to never being the everyday hero that I used to be. Last night, something happened, something that made me realize that I'm stuck this way, I will be the Hero until the day I die. I'm not really sure what to make of that. On one hand, I like the feeling I get from helping people, and saving them, but at the same time...I know that I will never be able to resist the urge to mend every broken heart I come across. I mean, I put myself in a very dangerous situation last night, chasing down some madwoman, who had just tried to run over my neighbor, so what is there to stop me from a situation with no real physical danger?

I guess I'll just keep on this way, I'll fight and fight until one of two things happens: 1. I find someone who appreciates the Hero in me, and is willing to fight right along side me. 2. I die.

So I suppose I'll put on this rusty old armor once again, although it was only hanging for a few days...It just doesn't feel right without it on.

"Boy, the first amendment protects you from the Government, not from me. You can say whatever you want to out there, but if you come within reach of me, I'll exercise my right to give you a good old country ass-whoopin' is what I'll do." -Trace Adkins

Just Another Broken Hero

Somewhere along the line, I was told "Be a hero, because in this world, the heroes are slowly dying." I was then handed assurances that the Hero saves the girl, and so long as they make each other happy, they stay together, no matter what. Ha. Hate to break it to you dear reader, but that's a load of crap.

I've been the Hero all my life. In the beginning, it was: Save the girl, followed by "You're the best friend I've ever had!" and nothing more. Later on, I would actually get the girl. Call it a string of bad luck, or maybe bad choices, most of which you all already know, but every time, by heart would be torn from my chest (With the exception of the last time). I can definitely say that I've learned to listen to my friends, you've always been right, even  if I didn't see it at the time.

I'm done being the Hero. I'm done fighting for the girl, only to watch her fall in love with someone else. Don't get me wrong, I'll still be one of the few good guys left in the world, and I'm sure at some point the Hero in me will rise back to the top. For now though, I'm not looking for forever, I'm not looking for someone to give my heart to. As far as I'm concerned, I already found "The One"...and I let her walk away. Maybe I don't even deserve to find someone to love me, I mean, let's face it, I let the girl of my dreams walk away, and I didn't even fight. I suppose there's only one thing to do though...

This is a message to ALL of the Heroes. Lets burn this city. Lets go out there, and make it our own, and maybe some day, when we've made a name for ourselves, the one's we're supposed to be with will find us, until then...

"He makes a beast out of himself, gets rid of the pain, of being a man." -Ax7