It’s hard to describe how I feel most days.  I don’t feel depressed, per say, but it feels like a deep longing.  That even though everything is going okay, there is something missing.  There are days where it feels like your energy is bombarding me; like a ghost pounding on my chest.  No matter what steps I take, things I do, or places I go, there’s always something there to remind me (including that song).

I always pay such intricate attention to coincidence.  Part of me wants to say I have an over-active imagination, and the other wants to think ‘the universe is talking to me’.  I don’t know which part to listen to, because they make compelling arguments.  I suppose, too, it can be argued I’ve made up my mind on what I believe to be the case, thought I feel that’s not entirely accurate.  Despite what my heart wants to believe is some kind of communication, my mind insists listening to my heart, especially now, is foolhardy.

I can’t remember if I posted a letter detailing some of my observations or not.  I know I’d written quite a few; posting them is an entirely different matter.

The first place I’m sent getting back to work after our breakup?  A meat processing facility.  Mostly working with beef hearts to be added to the ground beef mixture.  Taking everything into consideration, the irony nearly killed me.

The Timberwolves trade Kevin Love to the Cavaliers, and his new jersey number upon his arrival is 0.

The Vikings make the defensive coordinator of the Bengals their head coach, and make the head coach of the Browns their offensive coordinator.

There have been a laundry list of lesser things that bring you to mind, but those were some of the strangest to have noticed.  There’s one more in particular that involves a bit of a story.

I went to a concert in February; the same group I went to see in 2012.  I got their new album, and instantly connected with a lot of the energy on the record.  Their new album has three different covers; each a different monster’s head, and it comes with a ‘trading card’ describing the monster.  Now I’m not sure which of these is the bigger ‘punchline’.

The cover, and subsequent card, I got features the monster called ‘Beza’, and it’s description is as follows –

The Beza became entrenched in the cutthroat world of outdoor weightlifting and humongous pants.  He may constantly tell other Beza ‘I got this’, and wave off spots.  He loves the color neon, and pop-locking culture.  Beza can be male or female (female Beza become male over time).

It’s appearance could be described as somewhat goat-like, with horns where you’d expect eyes to be, and dozens of ‘micro-tongues’.

Track 13 on the album is titled ‘Octoberfest’.  The lines in the chorus speak to me.

“We ain’t got no rules in here / One-by-one we’re losing here / Reckless, stressed, and super weird / With heavy heads and souvenirs” –

I’m aware I could be clutching at straws.  However, with everything there is to know about one another, these happenings seem eerie in their being coincidence.  Combine my noticing these things with feeling the sensations that I do, and it may not be so difficult to understand why I’m not sure what part of me I should listen to.

Every angry letter on this site, telling a guy off, and that the woman is much better off, my mind can rationalize you being that letter’s author.

Any letter I see that my heart can rationalize you being the author of can do many things.  It can make me want to disregard the voice telling me to keep walking away if the letter indicates sadness, or pain.  It can call forth the rainbow of emotions that accompanied our best times if the letter sounds indicative of hope.

It’s hard to ignore things like this because when we said we felt like we were connected to each other’s energy; that when we were connected it felt like we’d known each other forever, it felt real.  What I had with you felt downright overwhelming at times.  It was immensely powerful, and your presence had awoken, or at the very least, disturbed, things within me I thought were either dead or on the brink of dying out.  I don’t know how much you touched, or just what you did while you were in there, but everything has crumbled systematically since your departure.  Every ‘wall’ I could hide in has fallen to rubble one by one, but it’s strange.  In a way, it’s like I’m dismantling things of my own volition, but its more like dynamite was planted, and I was hypnotized into pressing the detonation plungers.

I notice that I’m the one destroying everything, but it feels like someone else’s blueprint.

I know your interest, your passion, your education.  It could easily give you access to the inner machinations of my mind.  You would know how to influence things.  Knowing everything you do about me, you have enough explosives to lay waste to me completely.  My mind is afraid that’s your intention, while my heart insists you wouldn’t do that.

There are things I notice or happen across that end up making me think of your family, or someone else you’re close to.  With that, I submit for your consideration : Haywyre.  His rendition of ‘Smooth Criminal’ is pretty good, but that’s not the point.  I bring it up because he posted a video of himself performing the song live, and it made me think “I should show this to her sister.  It could give her an idea about a modern application for her talent with the piano.”

You know music is a huge deal with me.  My passion, and often utilized to communicate.  I’ve been ‘taking inventory’ of all the songs that have come up over the years, not to mention the half dozen or so that found their birth through me being inspired by you.  So it seems almost appropriate the song that got me hooked on a new group would make me think of you somehow.

Why would ‘BADBOI’ by Pegboard Nerds make me think of you, especially with you being a woman?  Because it’s a very high-energy song, so I could imagine you working out to it; specifically, boxing.

Though you may think I haven’t, I’ve tried to just forget about you, and go on with things.  I’ve tried forcing you out.  I’ve tried being angry, or hostile, but it can never last; it fizzles out just as quickly as it’s manufactured.

I thought maybe I could retreat to video games.  I went out and got a copy of the new COD game, and I even got the Season Pass (basically, pre-buying promised downloadable content at a slightly reduced cost than buying each DLC pack individually) to keep it interesting over time.  However, I haven’t touched the game, let alone the power button for the system in months.  From what I understand, the second DLC pack of the season is going to come out soon, and I haven’t played since before the first pack came out.  Unless I’m actively making myself do something else, it seems like all I want to do is write love songs and bad poetry.

Because of your influence, I started cutting ‘toxic’ people out of my life, and have noticed a change in and of myself, and for a split second I’m proud of myself, but then I imagine you must have felt much the same way.

Sometimes my thoughts wander into the whole “meant to be/soulmates/connected” thing.  Maybe it’s real and true.  Maybe we were connected to one another in the past.  I start to think, maybe that connection felt so strong and real because it was, and that it was so that only natural energies should reunite.  However, the unforeseen happened.  Life damaged the vessels the energy was contained in.  Damaged them in such a way it could tarnish the energy.  Kind of like how different audio filters can take a pure sine wave, distort it, and turn it into something you’d hear in a Skrillex song.

That’s what life does to people.  The scars and other injuries we sustain put dents and dings into our being.  The effect of such things being similar to applying distortion or other filters to a sine wave; taking the original pure tone and distorting it into unrecognizable forms.

Maybe we were singing in harmony, but our distortions made it seem like the other was singing a completely different tune.

I really don’t know what to think.  I know I made some pretty bad mistakes, and they punch me in the face with how clearly I see them.  I suppose too, this being the only time I’ve seen clearly.  Where I’m trying to see my way out of the mental fog as opposed to putting myself deeper into it.  

Whatever the case is for you, love me or hate me, I always knew you were different.  I always felt that you would change me somehow.  That you had some kind of power about you none of the other girls had.  You’re the only one whose heartbreak inspired positive change and forward motion.  And I’ve confronted the notion of that being the only ‘meant to be’ there was meant to be between us; either my being an inspirational catalyst (scaring the shit out of you by showing you what you don’t want to become) or yours (by waking me up; being a realtime example of all I’d resisted working).

I don’t know what more I can say.