Facebook. 25 years. Catching Up.

Yeah. It’s been a while, I know that. Moving is a tough experience. Living with family under the same roof can be tougher.

 This all started early in 2009. This was a couple months after I had met the only woman to make me smile on a day to day basis. I woman I re-met after 25 years. Ouch. 25 years seems so long. Yes. We met on Facebook. No. It did not destroy my marriage. My marriage fell apart about a year before I met her. I do find it fascinating and yet utterly obvious that Facebook is now contributing to more divorces than any other cause of divorce out there. I think it’s implicitly in our genes to try and make right what once went wrong and reconnect “the ONE that got away” As human beings we want to correct our mistakes. At least those mistakes made in the name of love and desire. There were girls thatgot away, that I let slip through my fingers because I was shy. I was afraid to speak to those girls who made my heart and pants flutter. I don’t know why. I suppose it’s also a part of the instinctual spreading the seed theory. She was the one I didn’t get… so, thanks to Facebook, I can go back and get her now! Well. it works. it’s tried and true. Why do you think Facebook is no longer primarily used by college teens? The primary demo for Facebook is now… women ages 35-44. According to recent studies, “a full 25% of users are in this age range” Which is more than any other age demographic on ALL of Facebook. Which… means that women are doing the same thing as men. They missed their chance 25 years ago and are now using it for the same thing. Reconnecting. both in a nostalgic sense as well as reconnecing some body parts that may need some freshening up after 25 years.

I know that, cliched hindsight is 20/20, but it is true. I knew the day I got married I was making a mistake. Yet, I put up with it because I was young and stupid. If I could go back, I wouldn’t have married her. And if I hadn’t, I would have made the same mistakes with another woman. So in that sense, we’re all doomed. I vote for a marriage ban until you are 30 years old. This isn’t the fifties. This isn’t the forties. This isn’t the 1800’s. The ocean of fish is much smaller these days, thanks to the internet and yes, facebook. In this age of open kitty every where you turn, in any part of the world, people need to slow down and take their time to make sure they have found the kitty or sausage they really need to make them happy for the rest of their lives. There’s no reason to pick and choose and settle within your high school circle of fish. There is absolutely no reason for it. Play the field. Find THE one, in whatever part of the world he or she may lie in.

Yes, I am contradicting myself… since I amow with a woman who I went to grade school with. but, I spent 12 years in hell. in that 12 years, as the internet spawned, I spawned with it. I tested the waters all over this big blue planet. Younger. Older. Experimental. Actual. Fictional. Emotional. Physical. I was lost at sea. And I rolled with the waves and let them take me where it may. It ended in Missouri. 1000 miles from home and 1000 miles from my children. That one was a big mistake. But six months later, it set me straight on a path 25 years to the past to wind up where I am now.

We floated for a few months, both of us divorced, neither one of us having a place to live. We would crash in our cars… in the middle of a Northern New York winter, probably wasn’t the smartest thing for either of us to do. But it made us happy to be together. We didn’t care where we lived. From there, we began staying on her brother’s living room floor. Those days were kind of fascinating, and a year later a little nostalgic for a time when we weren’t all enemies.

Eventually, the apartment upstairs from him freed up and we moved in.

Moved into hell.

Living there for a year destroyed their relationship. Mainly due to his drug use in front of his children.

The moving out process has been excruciatingly painful and exhausting. Two nights ago, after ALL of our belongings have been moved. The carpets replaced. The house cleaned from top to bottom. he started in on her. Harassing her to a point where I had to block his number from her phone. It’s strange how violent texting can be. There’s so much selfishness that as you stand on the outside you can see how clouded one can become by an evil spouse and desire for that longing drug addiction.

I can’t even begin to describe the pain we’ve endured in that old apartment that is now gone from our lives. She lost a brother because of it. A brother who stood by her side when they were teens as she was about to hand her first child over to adoption, and held her hand as she decided to keep her daughter. A brother who over time fell deeper and deeper into addiction and loss and developed into a lower middle class criminal. He’s now gone from her life. By both of their choosing. We can’t stand by to watch them destroy their own children’s lives any more. We gave it our shot and tried to be there.

It backfired. But because it backfired, we now have the home of our dreams and will be moving in, in a matter of twelve days. Twelve days until eternal peace together.

… but for now, we’re homeless. We roam. Rlying still on family to hold us on their shoulders and bear our crosses for us. Right now, it’s the only choice we have. So we swallow our pride, put our tails between our legs and sleep.

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