This Ride

I used to blog a lot during the old MySpace days.  I'd talk about politics, society, culture, relationships, just whatever was weighing on my cabeza that day.  Those days are old enough to get into a titty bar now, and I'm old enough to have a kid starting college.  All the people I called friends have the best and worst behind them and are gracefully strolling into middle age while I'm starting my family late, very late, with a broken body and a broken spirit.  No support, no external stability to help buttress this up.  The village turned out to be little more than an abandoned trailer park and a few crackhouses and I'm hunkered down in this safe haven I created for myself and am now maintaining for my child and my partner in all this that doesn't want this any more than I did a year and a half ago.

But here we are.

 I'm rough and abrupt in my manner of speaking and I'm not as concerned as I once was with hiding dirty family secrets.  I'm coarse.  I'm lonely.  I'm broken and I just want off this ride.  I'm grieving for a body that will never be the same and never be pain free and I'm homesick for a place that never existed.