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Tonight, during 30 minutes at the Local, both Cat Power’s Islands and Tom Petty’s Alright for Now played on the ipod mix. Little pieces of you are scattered throughout my universe.

Because the elevator arrived before the ten count, and because I scored 150 on one word game dated 21 June 2003, and over 15000 in the next, and more than 6000 on the next, and because the cigarette butt evenly split the heating grate and fell to the ductwork below, and because I caught all of the lights on Dekalb Avenue, with no stops, all the way home, and because I did the crossword in under 10 minutes, and maybe because I am reading Ovid’s Metamporphoses… I am changing and you are coming back… right?

About all I have watched on TV since August has been sports. It allows me to do other things while it is on. I can read write. I occasionally watch PBS and only on rare occasion a movie (I don’t subscribe to Netflix anymore, financial concerns and the lack of an adequate and enjoyable movie-watching partner caused that). At first, I couldn’t bring myself to watch the shows that we used to watch together. I was thankful that you didn’t like sports, because it was something that was just mine, something that I could enjoy more now that you aren’t around. I feel now as if it has been a bit of sports overdose. Today was Super Bowl Sunday and I went over to Scott and Morgan’s to watch it projected onto a large wall in their living room. I am glad the Steelers won, I have always been a passive fan. As with all once-annual events though, it has me measuring out my time. I can’t remember what we did on Super Bowl last year, but I remember one year going over to Julie’s house. It was the year of the infamous nipple slip – two years ago. I remember those times being fun and trying at the same time. I don’t really think either one of us felt like we really fit in there, and because of that feeling we were as one. It felt nice, although now I don’t really know if I should have chosen to cut people up so much. Ultimately I was only calling attention to my own deficiencies.
I guess these once annual events make me think about all that has happened. Where we are now. The joy, the sorrow and the pain. I enjoy my privacy now. I even enjoy my alone time. I enjoy controlling what I am going to do on most nights as well. I still miss you though. I still am so lonely some of the time. As I mentioned in another post, there is still this darkened cavern within me that once was filled with light and warmth. Granted, there are points of light inside of me that you don’t even know about since they have come about since the breakup. They have little to do with you being in or out of my life, but more to do with the kick-in-the-ass that the breakup was to me, a tidal force pushing me to become a better man. Yes, I still miss you, especially on Sunday nights like this. Ultimately sports can get me only so far. Nothing was ever simpler than the good night with you on the sofa, TV on, mind at ease, and your feet in my lap. That’s the origin of loneliness and love.

It think I will soon have to retire the Wonder Woman toothbrush you gave as the bristles have become all splayed. I have tried to make it work with her for some time now, but I am afraid that scraping my teeth with the hard plastic is just not good enough dental hygiene. Maybe I will put her to work in another capacity…

I guess I witnessed hsitory today. It is really eery to think that I was that close to the body of a woman that has done so much, that I have seen so many photos of. I can’t imagine the love that Coretta and MLK had. I wonder what that was like. As they took her into a the capitol building today, a bagpiper preceded her playing “Amazing Grace.” I thought of Coretta and teared up as people started singing “We Shall Overcome,” but the bagpipes did me in and I had to walk away.

Okay. You wrote me today asking about my match.com profile as if I am a failure or something. And I have told Liz so that it might make its way back to you about who I have met there and lo and behold you write me, ostensinsibly because you found it on BBC’s blog…. It was and has been and will be for some time you. I have met interesting and beautiful people. I am not so bad. But no one has ever understood me, for better or worse, in the way in which you do. I know you are so thoroughly gone. I know that you are never to be mine again. I have not figured how to give it up yet. I miss shaved ice. I miss that twangy voice. I miss the sex we had. I miss your lithe belly. I miss YOUR frends. I shouldn’t be where I am now. Tomorrow I have to wake up to record the wife of the dream go to the seat of power. I have to follow a dead woman as she progresses toward the grave. I will always love you. I wish you would be mine. I wish you would ask me to be yours. I wish we could be beyond all of this. I wish I could, and you could, make all of us happy. You are so lovely, and have always been so.

I started this blog tonight, February 1st, 2006, because I realized that I have much more to say. The audience for bullpencatcher has grown to a state that I no longer feel comforatble bringing everyone down with moanings about you, about how much I miss you, and how much I love, and all that. Frankly, I hoep to make BPC a slightly happier place. It can represent that one side of me that I finally have gotten back. The fact is though that I still have so much to say about you and I not being in each others’ lives so much anymore. It hurts many nights, and days. It has been almost 5 months since you called it quits with me. I know we still excahnge the occasional email, and those are nice. It’s good to know how you are doing, but it is no substitute for you being here with me, or me there with you, or just the occasional dinner. I miss the kisses, the hugs, the sex, the stories, the laughing, the singing, the drives….
I guess ultimately this is a place for me to keep things hidden from others, but where I can work them out myself. I don’t even know if I will ever tell you that this place exists. Maybe one day I will. Maybe one day it will seem right. Mainly it is just for me right now. A place where I don’t have to posture or hold anything back. If you ever do read it, I hope you will realize that it is a testament of love, the closest I can do to a Taj Mahal.
B