Screw the person, help the dog.

Have you ever been the “Phone a friend”? And no, I don’t mean Regis on the other end asking: “Keith is that you? Regis Philbin, Who Wants to be a Millionaire”.  You ever notice on that show that the person always answered on the first ring?  Little desperate.

The phone a friend I’m talking about, well…

The first instance I can recall was a classmate of mine my senior year in high school.  I went to a very small Catholic High School in Rutland,VT.  A city that lately has become synonymous with heroin and a Syrian refugee debate.  Poor Syrians, not only to they have to go to a place they are not wanted.  They have to go to Rutland too.

It wasn’t always like this though.  A thriving economy with not one but two General Electric plants.  Multiple factories that provided the nation and parts of the world plastics and wood.   Now, not so much.  But during 1996, booming.  Thanks Slick Willy!!

I was only 17 years old, but a friend was calling me because of my expertise in specific subject matter.  It wasn’t about homework, no one would ever fucking call ME for homework.  It wasn’t for relationship advice. I was better in science than I was in relationships and I consistently failed science.  No, the subject was way more serious than that.  She was calling me to tell me she wanted to kill herself.  Only weeks before, maybe days, I was released from Cheshire Medical Center in New Hampshire, where I stayed for 15 Days and 14 Nights.  At 17 years old, I was the one that answered the: “Cry for Help”.  I don’t know how many of you have had that luxury.  But, being handed that responsibility, in the same very room you attempted your own suicide attempt, only days after coming back there.  I will just say this:

I wouldn’t have had anyone else fucking do it!

Oh, and she lived.

Years later, well, I may have gotten that call again.  This time, I was too hungover to talk.

3 days later.

He didn’t.

Last Friday I get a text from a woman that I think highly of.  We met on one of the many dating websites I subscribe to.  I like to say I’m casting a wide net.  Realistically, I’m just desperate to hear someone hot say I’m cute.  We could go into a very deep psychoanalysis of this, but we will save that for another blog.

My friend, who we will call Faith 333,  is recently separated and has a 10 year old  boy.  Very attractive lady, nice body, a school teacher,  public speaker,  life coach and a writer.  The latter  still something that I’m trying to convince myself that I am.  See you in 3 months Tony Robbins!

Once Faith 333 liberated herself from her marriage and was officially labeled as “Currently Separated”, she  went on one of the many dating websites I frequent on a daily basis.  Now,  to add some credibility; It wasn’t even 2 days into my ex and I deciding to get a divorce before I already had this gorgeous little lady that wanted to meet me on Match.com  And when she did…Let’s just say she got to witness an actual nuclear meltdown from point blank range.  I officially became her dating site horror story.    Eventually, though, I met a girl, that was amazingly sweet but just as amazingly insecure.  We ended up sleeping with each other on the first date and the whole time I couldn’t get the image of my ex out of my head.  Another horror story. Then I  met a hippie girl I obsessed about, but that turned into the Three Mile Island to the previous Chernobyl.  Now, I’ve never seen American Horror Story, but I understand that there are 3 different seasons of it, each with a different story line.  This was my dating life.  Eventually though, I  went down to D.C. just to have sex for a weekend with a girl I was crazy about in another life. A very “No Strings Attached” weekend. But, like any addict, I hopped right back on the Merry-Go-Round of dating websites and  met a crazy Christian.  That ended due to one of those Himalayan Salt Lamps and a rabid cat.  Long story.   And my last fling came and went when I  met the next Senator of NY.  But this one ACTUALLY  became my girlfriend…  For a week!  No shit! Good thing that didn’t become Facebook official, so we can pretend it never happened.

Faith 333 on the other hand met someone that made her feel for the first time in only God knows how long!  Made her feel loved.  Made her feel sexy! Made her feel wanted, desired, coveted.  Unfortunately though, she became second fiddle to addictions like her ex-husband she was still technically married to. She was rejected by this man she met,  which in her heart and mind is her Scarlett Letter, rejection that is. Her and I went out on an official date, and I asked if there was someone else. I had a sense.  She confirmed that she still had feelings for this guy.  Why wouldn’t she?  Imagine you were in an incorrigible situation for YEARS, and when you break free from it, there is someone there that, you thought, swept you off your feet.  The funny thing about encounters like these, desperate enough, you will find any commonality to build upon.  Even though the strongest commonality here was the way she was all alone again, except for the love of her son.  Which was now becoming strenuous due to the horrible back and forth her and her soon to be ex-husband were subjecting him to on a daily basis. And child of divorce knows what I’m talking about.  No matter how much you try not to put the child in the middle, the child(ren) always are.  And typically, one will use the child as leverage.  Which is appalling, but true.  Desperate times call for desperate measures right?  Anyway, the night that Faith 333 and I went out,  my “Spidey Sense” for dating too soon, which I believe I am now an expert of, was freaking out.  I could tell this lovely woman was wounded, and she needed time to heal. But rejection is a son of a bitch…

Many of us know that feeling don’t we?  The feeling of wanting what we can’t have?  We will convince ourselves that it’s SO MUCH MORE than that!  I mean seriously,  I was married to a girl that was talking to other guys online about the possibility of  them meeting BEFORE we got married.  She even contacted the guy on our Honeymoon.  She even had phone sex with one guy.  IN OUR BEDROOM. After being told some of this and figuring out the rest and confronting her about it; You know what happened right after I moved out of our house?

I STILL WANTED HER BACK!

Because she rejected me.  And… I was dying to have sex with her just one last time.

But the text I got from Faith 333 wasn’t about that though.  I actually  mentioned why she did. Did you pick up on it?  He is an addict and alcoholic, and furthermore, and she didn’t know she was doing this, she was worried about him hurting himself after not hearing from him since the evening before.  A night she thought he had been consuming something. But she didn’t know this, but this was now the 3rd time in my life that phone rang and it may have had a persons life hanging in the balance.

And there was no one else that I’d rather have answering that phone call.

After some tears were shed on her part, and understandably so.  No one wants to be rejected.  True story: The last time I heard my ex-wife cry?  She was on the phone with me, still as my wife, and she was listening to me cry about how much I missed her.  She told me to stop crying.  Then I asked about the guy she said she was convinced she was in love with, the internet troll living in his mom and dads basement.  Or so I believe.  She welled up and told me he stopped talking to her. Hmmm…Maybe it was because he was a major reason why you wanted to leave your husband.  It was much deeper than that though, please see a previous blog post of mine.

She asked if I would come over for dinner, which I accepted.  Why?  I’m in a good place emotionally, and when I am, I love to help people.  Does it help that Faith 333 looks the way she does?  It sure as shit doesn’t hurt.

While I was there we enjoyed each others deep conversations, while revealing some of our darkest moments.  I’m not the type that goes on to social media and just blabs about my problems.  That’s what blogs are for!  No, seriously though, we have a connection.  We ended up watching that Tony Robbin’s movie on Netflix and talked until midnight.  I kissed her on the cheek and forehead to let her know she is loved, and wished her a good night.

The next morning I woke up in a pisser of a mood.  I don’t typically stay up past 10pm, primarily because I wake up religiously before 6am.  So, falling asleep at around 1am and waking up at 6am flat out sucks. Instantly something that happened at the end of my work day popped into my head, which did nothing but perpetuate my bad mood.  Then I got a notification on my phone, then another, and another.  Faith 333 thanked me so much for what I did and told me that she was going to do what she needed to.  I suggested the night before that she focus on her son.  Being a son of an ugly divorce, which she is going through, the child needs to be at the forefront of her mind, not a guy she was chasing.

So Faith 333 said she was going to do just that, focus on her son…Until, well, emotion takes a hold of your throat and then face punches you over, and over, and over, and over and over, and over…and when you think it’s finally done, it starts back up even stronger than before.  Why?  Because nobody wants to be rejected.  Remember my ex-wife and her internet fairy tale lover?  I would have taken her back in a second during the first year of our divorce, and probably portions of the second.  THAT is how powerful the feeling of rejection is.  It’s like an addiction to heroin mixed with cocaine.

She asked if she could come see me and go for a bike ride.  My bad mood from lack of sleep and work immediately dissipated.  I started to clean up, get myself ready, and get psyched for my ride.  It was shortly followed by her texting that  she got sick and can’t come.  Funny how your body reacts when your mind convinces you that there is a crisis happening.  Now, my bad mood came back with a vengeance.  I decided I would read which  didn’t last longer than two sentences.  My anger and frustration with everything I did, was willing to do, and was excited to keep on doing overwhelmed me.  So what did I do you may ask?

I got the fuck up.

Everyday, especially lately thanks to the nice weather.  I go for a walk first thing in the morning.  One morning though, I see a German Sheppard running around only a street up from my place.  Now, my childhood best friend had a German Sheppard growing up, his name was Apollo.   Appropriately named because he was as terrifying as the boxer in the Rocky movies and as fast a space rocket.  So there is a bit of a fear from adolescence that resurfaces when I see one.  Especially one that is free from his chain.  But I decided that day to keep on my path.  Not going to lie, I definitely turned around and started having second thoughts.  But as I approached the dog, I remembered a lesson I saw watching G.I Joe.

 

What I did do though was turn my hand palm side down and let him sniff the back of my hand.  He licked my hand and we realized we were both friendly and very beautiful.  A minute later I heard a whistle, turned around, and grabbed the dog by the collar and brought him to his somewhat grateful, annoyed, and embarrassed owner.

Fast forward back to the morning that Faith 333 “blew me off”.  I kid, because I will send this to her.  I began my walk on this beautiful morning and instantly I started feeling better.  Then a man in his Chevy Silverado pulls up and asked if I’ve seen a dog?  Told him that I haven’t but I did ask what kind?

A German Sheppard he said.  I quickly responded, without thinking of how douchey it may sound:

“Oh are you the same guy that lost him 2 weeks ago?”

“Yes”. he said with a soft tone that essentially said: “Son of a bitch, does this guy only walk when I lose my dog?!?”

Now that I think of it, I wasn’t douchey; Here is an idea, stop losing your damn dog?!?

Minutes later I saw the dog and we ran up to each other like two hippies tripping on acid that finally found each through the forest of people at a Summer Festival.  Seconds after that, I saw the guys truck and we got our dog back to his owner.  I continued on my walk with my head held high, my shoulders back, and an immense sense of pride.

Moral of the story or for some of you and what the fuck is the point of this for the rest:

The point is…We say things happen for a reason and some of us say “It is what it is”.

Fuck that!

When you’re feeling down, depressed, sad or are just not feeling mentally well: Get up, go do something for you, something for a family member. And if they suck, do in spite of.  If they suck that much, do something  for a friend.  And if you don’t have any friends, do it for a co-worker, and if they smell like 3 day old cheese, do something for a stranger, and if strangers scare you, JUST DO SOMETHING!

Because a dog could be lost without you.

A classmate may hate her life so much not realizing that she eventually can leave and be free of her mothers dark shadow.

A mentor may be lost and you may know the way out.

Or your friend calls, and because he’s not a good looking girl like the other two, you don’t answer the phone and then he’s gone.

 

Please trust me, doing something, no matter how painful it can be.  I promise you, it will never be as horrifying as the feeling that comes from doing nothing.
Live with passion!

-k

 

 

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