Don't Talk of Love

My parents divorced when I was a wee little lad of five or six years old. They had their reasons and they were good ones. I did what I could to save their marriage, but no matter how many times I dressed up as a ghost and tried to scare them into staying together, it just never worked. I don't even know why I thought that would work. It seems so ridiculous in hindsight, but to my little kid self it made perfect sense.

Crap...hold on...I'm sorry, I confused my memories with that one Brady Bunch episode where the kids make scary noises and one of them dresses up as a ghost to scare off a prospective home buyer. I don't know why I thought that's what I tried, but I'll be damned if it didn't work for them. The house was saved and the family went on a great vacation to Hawaii and Marsha got laid by that Filipino dude in the sauna. Everything came up roses for the Brady clan. 

Not so much for the Buban clan. 

I'm not sure what the current divorce rate is in the United States. I looked it up, but there were a bunch of numbers and I'm not all that smart and numbers are weird and stuff, so let's just stick with that 50% rate that's always thrown about. That's just for the married folk. Most of those people probably had many relationships before they were married and all of those failed as well. The important number here is that the relationship failure rate is probably more like 94%, assuming my math (that I really didn't actually do) is correct. I'm just saying there are a lot of failed relationships out there. It's just not easy to make these things last. Relationships are like cellphones. No one wants some old crap phone that's two years old and oh my God it takes forever to download like any website now! Screw that. Out with the old, in with the new. 

My last cellphone lasted two years and two months exactly before it died. Oops, that was my last relationship, not cellphone. Regardless, now I'm fucked because my contract isn't up for at least 30 more years and I don't really want to pay for a new phone/relationship. The old one's dead. What am I supposed to do? 

The point is, for this Buban, the relationships just don't seem to work. I don't know what the problem is, but if any of you ladies are looking to have a couple prime years of your life ruined, please call me up. I'll see what I can do! And what I'll do is somehow make you miserable over time. It'll be a slow build up to miserable and unhappy and you'll deny those feelings for quite a while, just like all the rest, but inevitably you'll wise up, dump me, and go buy yourself the new iPhone9 or something shiny to make yourself feel better.

Now it's all about being haunted by memories of her gone bye. 

I hate the end of relationships. The sleepless nights, the loss of appetite, the restless mind that never shuts off. It's like doing a bunch of coke, except without any of the fun. 

I still remember the Buban Bash from years ago, when I first got a glimpse of her. My first thought was that she was the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I was drinking that night, but there were no beer goggles in play. She actually was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen, and we get some good looking chicks at that party. It wasn't until another year or two when we started dating, as apparently I never picked up on her imperceptible cues of interest. Our first date was brunch on New Years Day. I wowed her with my charm, sincerity, good looks, humor and sharp dress. Of course I was wearing the same clothes I had worn the night before when I hung out with her at my sisters house, but she didn't seem to mind too much. And she wowed me by actually showing up. Afterwards, I was so happy about having been on a date with her, I left and walked five miles through the snow to my sisters house instead of taking the bus. That was stupid, but I was pretty happy. 

Needless to say, one thing lead to another, and love blossomed like...well, like Blossom's gigantic tits later on in life. 

But now when this winter is winding its way towards obscurity, so too has our relationship. 

Once again, it's all over. I'm going to miss staring into those big ol' brown eyes. I mean, my God, you could stare into those things forever and not get tired of it. I'm going to miss being awestruck by her beautiful smile. I'm going to miss a lot of what we had, but for the most part, I'm just plain going to miss Mary. I'm going to miss her being happy and excited to go see Judas Priest in concert (she even bought herself a shirt, though I've never actually seen her wear it). And damnit, now I've got an extra Belle & Sebastian ticket again. I guess I'll never learn. Same thing happened when my last relationship ended. I hate that stupid band and their concerts and their breaking up my relationships. Take your ridiculously good, catchy songs and get the hell out of my life! 

Speaking of songs, I should make a mix tape of all the songs I associate with my failed relationships. It would have to be one of those 120 minute long tapes, as there are plenty to choose from. Just another thing to hate about breaking up...the amazing great songs that I won't listen to for far too long. Frankie and Johnny. Bus Stop. Holy Diver. She's a Rainbow. Don't Get Me Wrong. Any Simon and Garfunkel song.  That reminds me...I've got two almost finished metal mixes that were supposed to be for her, as she liked the first one I made so much. Yeah...she didn't know much metal, but she liked it quite a bit. Shoot me now. I fucked up. I'm stupid. Hell one time, I left the room and came back to her playing some Rainbow tunes. 

You all probably thought this was going to be one of those Dave got dumped, now he's going to trash the hell out of his ex blogs, didn't you? Oh I thought about it, but she's untrashable. I don't really have anything bad to say. She's a good person. We had our fun. We had a lot of fun. We also had some dumb times. And we had some crappy times. And we had some boring times. Nothing new there as far as relationships go. 

I did my best to try and save it, but it was too little, too late. Actually I don't think it was too little, as I offered up quite an extensive platter of things that I mistakenly thought would help get us through. Get us back to where we needed. Get us back on track. It was too late though. It was over. Elvis had left the building. 

I swear to God, one of these days I'm going to get to dump the person. I guess I almost did it to her a long time ago, but I didn't. That was a smart decision. At least this time, I don't think it was all my fault. We both can share the blame, but I'm sorry I didn't recognize and resolve some problems earlier, including the ones I didn't know about. I guess I learned something maybe. Stop being a stupid ass, Dave. Stop taking things for granted. Stop pretending that when there are problems, they'll just magically fix themselves. They don't. Pay more attention. Make an effort.

And sorry about writing a blog about this, but you're getting off way easier than the last one, so consider yourself lucky if you ever happen to read this. 

So thanks for two plus years of a really, really great time and best of luck to you in the future. You were a good one, Mary. You are a good one, Mary. But now you're a gone one, Mary, and I'm still here. 

Stupid relationships. I'm going to go dress up as a ghost now so I can disappear. 

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Don't talk of love,
But I've heard the words before;
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.