Peanut Heart Pt II


As the day continued, I found myself in an array of head spaces.  I was angry, sad, happy, numb, angry, confused, sad, lonely, happy, and then maybe a little regretful.  That’s just too many things to feel in one day.

So I rode my bike.

It’s been a while since I’ve been on the mountain bike.  As hot and humid as it was, I took on the climb with a purpose.  I wanted to hurt it all out.  I felt like I might puke, but I managed to keep it under wraps.  My sweat was sweating.  The only noise I could hear was my breathing…like a dog who just chased a rabbit.  Like every single suffer fest, I couldn’t feel anything else.  If only it could take me all the way to my slumber, because I can’t shut my mind off enough to fall asleep in the traditional ways you normal people do.

I got to come home to my dog for the second day in a row.  No matter what, he’s pretty stoked to see me…EVERY SINGLE TIME.  I tend to forget this guy has been with me through it all.  From Tennessee to North Carolina.  From North Carolina to California.  From California to Tennessee, and back to North Carolina.  Chico has seen the faces of many relationships, but stood right by me when no one else would.  He loves me even after I scold him.  He knows when I’m sad, because he always wants to snuggle.  He is the ultimate companion…except he can’t talk.  I still talk to him, though.

I don’t know if I made the right choices up until now.  I definitely don’t know if I’m even walking the right path as I sit here and write this.  At this point, the risks are starting to add up, and the outcome doesn’t feel worth it.  Then, just like that, something happens out of the blue.  And it seems worth it.

But is it, really?

As I approach my mid-thirties, I keep looking around for that person to tell me what move to make next.  I’m always hoping decisions will be made for me, life lessons will get less painful, and I might actually get thrown a bone every now and then.

I still think Morrissey wrote most of his songs for me.  I think parents should get smacked for reading Cinderella to their little girls.  I think we should spend more time discussing “plan B” when your glorious post high school plans fail you.  I think we need to raise our daughters to love themselves.  I think we need to spend more time loving our sons so they don’t grow up to be assholes.  I think we are raising our kids to depend on others.  I think we need to spend more time listening and less time talking.  I think we all need to be honest with ourselves before we claim to know someone else’s honesty.

I keep waiting for patience.  I keep waiting for peace.  I keep waiting for the ability to stand tall on the inside, without crumbling to pieces.  I keep waiting for stability.  I keep waiting…but sometimes I feel like I’m going backwards.

I think I should ride my bike tomorrow.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. whashtonjr says:

    Peanut heart? No, big heart yes. Keep riding, keep writing. Life is like the hills we climb. Sometimes it seems like the suffering will never end. Even when we get to the top, we find there’s more to go. But when we get there, the view is so awesome. And the ride down the backside is so much fun!

  2. PJ Ruddy says:

    Hell yeah you should ride! I like what you said about parents with daughters watching Cinderella. I have 2 Daughters and neither one likes Cinderella, or owns a Barbie doll. We teach substance. I also admire how in touch you are with your feelings. I have a Dissociative disorder from PTSD so “They” say. I don’t get to experience too many emotions and really don’t know who I am. I try to say I’m a Father & a cyclist. It’s a struggle to make it stick. Namaste´ 🚴

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