Karma’s a bitch. Sooner or later, in this life or the next, we pay for our sins. I pay for mine time and again, over and over it seems. What I know now is that you just take whatever life throws at you. The goal is simply not to get knocked over. I found that it was always easier when someone was standing next to you, holding you up when you wavered. My understanding is that my ex has troubles. I wish I could be a robot and just turn off any sense of caring. I can fight it all I want, there will be residual emotions, basic concern and caring what happens to someone you used to love, at least for me this is true. I cannot speak to anyone else. I dream of being able to take 2-3 days to drop the iron curtain over a 10 year relationship; that simply isn’t me.

I derive no pleasure from her pains. There is no victory in her defeats. Even knowing that Karma catches up and extracts its tolls does nothing for me. It makes me feel worse. A part of me wants to be there for her, knowing that I cannot and will not ever help her again. My belief system dictates that I should do things for others without expectation, but this bell cannot be unrung. I cannot forgive someone who expresses no regrets for their actions. This creates an impasse and I don’t believe she will ever be someone who admits to being wrong. I have been so wrong so many times, I lost count. I’ve apologized and I regret what I have done. Eventually forgiving myself may be my only consolation.

I wasn’t perfect. Far from it actually. I took jokes way too far. I would torture her with a theme song, singing it in the car or when she came home from work every day. There were times I was insensitive, or not there for her emotionally when she needed it. Sometimes I was condescending to her point of view. I knew she hated spooning so I would demand that of her even if I didn’t really like that much just because she hated it. I always whispered whatever trivial information on character actors or some inside joke from the writers or directors when we were at the movie theater. I nick-named her cat Cossette “Baby Weasel-Head” and would make fun of her because she had 6 toes on every paw and looked weird. God, I miss that old cat. Or to sum up, I am incredibly immature. (This must be why people say I am long winded…)

No matter how horrible her actions, I still saw my kindred spirit reflected in her. I offered to be there for her, even after everything that was done and said. Because I still cared about this deeply flawed person, I wanted to try to make the relationship work. I don’t know who is more moronic, me for offering or her for turning me down. My stupidity is as deep as the ocean and as vast as the desert. All I see are two people wounded and suffering, separate and alone who once were mighty when they were together.

As things lie where they are, all I can say is that I never expected Karma to pay back quite so fast or on the nose. I don’t actually wish ill upon her or anyone. People reap what they sow, as the old saying goes. Life is full of irony.

For whatever reason, my pain seems to bring the eyeballs to this blog. Maybe it makes other people feel better about their own issues, or there are the hordes of people that love to see me fall from whatever pedestal they put me on. I don’t care that my confessions lessen me in the eyes of others. I don’t write this for anyone but myself. There can be very little lasting damage done by honesty and humility. Maybe my ego could use a little humbling.

I need love, love’s divine.
Please forgive me now I see that I’ve been blind.
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name.

– Seal

Categories: blog

Peter John Ross

A filmmaker, a dreamer, and the world's only Dan Akroyd Cosplayer


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