James suggested that I find someone like what Kayla was for a while. Someone to help release "stress". Normally, I would just work out out something in my own room but I don't have a room. I jump from bed to bed at home.
Luckily, James knew the best candidate. An old ex girlfriend who we constantly fight with but after our fights the make up sex made it ... tolerable. Until it didn't.
Her name is Jen G ( different Jen from Jen D ). She is living with an ex boy friend of James' old friend. However James's friend went back to jail for attempting suicide because he did not pay his fines and his boyfriend simply moved on to dude after dude after dude.
Anyways Jen G and I have been making this a semi regular stress reliever kinda thing. The first time I went to her place though I noticed writing on the wall. It was the name of an ex my brother Danny used to see. A Britt A. G. It was all over Jen's room and she hated it. She couldn't wait until she got the paint to paint over it. I thought it must be torturous with what the name meant because after our first try at a relationship, it was Britt that caused the initial rift.
But I had to admit that it helped. The stress reliever I mean. The work out.
But the name on the walls and in the closest ... something about it ...
Then it hit me. When I first got with Jasmine, she mentioned that she had an apartment with two people in our database, Elizabeth G. ... and her cousin Britt A. G..
So the house I was relieving stress at ... my wife was in. She did stuff here. Lived here. Slept there. Loved there. Partied here.
A life before she even met me.
So the last time I "worked out" with Jen G, I asked if there was any other names in the house. She showed me into the spare room. I asked what was the name.
She whimper Jasmine. She knew about it already. Keeping it from me, of course. She lived in a house with ghosts of people who meant more to me. Just have been torturous for her. A fitting hell for me.
I asked her where Jasmine's name was in this room. She said it was in the closet behind a bed.
And almost without thinking, almost effortlessly, I flip the bed away to open a closet full of boxes and worthless crap that meant nothing to me. I looked around in the dark closet to see her name. I fumbled my cell phone to produce light into the dark tomb that contained evidence of my wife.
Then I realized that I needed to take out the crap and boxes to see the walls. So I started to take boxes out ... and then throw boxes out of the closet. One after another. I heard screaming but I didn't care. I was tranced, focused, determined to find her name. Her signature. Her ... essence in the past. I just wanted her back in some way. Something that .... idk, proved she wasn't evil.
That the woman I loved more than myself existed. That ... I want tricked, maybe? That I ruined her. That I made her the horrible person who would throw her husband in jail and take away his son and his life and EVERYTHING!
And then I heard crying behind me. I turned to Jen G crying infront of a box I must have thrown. Glass as everywhere around the box from the box.
I slowly stood up to see that I trashed the room. Boxes everywhere and some of the stuff inside was all over the place. I turned back to the closet and realized I would have to do a lot more throwing to get you where I'm sure Jasmine wrote her name.
I stood there. Knowing that I kind of snapped, knowing that I must have been scaring Jen G. Hell, I was kinda scaring myself. But I wanted to know. I wanted to see. Right then, I just wanted her anyway I could still have my beautifully innocent wife.
I felt tears coming. The desperation ... how sad and pathetic it was was creeping up on me. I started to feel it and I didn't want anyone else to see it. The tears. The tears that I destroyed my life and everyone around it.
So I left. I got into the car I borrowed for the night and the phone played Lorde - Everybody Wants to Rule the World on repeat. Not her life song or our song but her 'I'm leaving you' song. The song that kills me everyone I hear it. I tried to make myself immune to it but it did not work. At least not this time.
Driving home, driving over 100 mph was a minimum. I wanted to drive fast. Drive away from the memories ... our maybe I was going to hit a pebble. But I'm too good a driver for that. Way too good a driver. But I pushed that damn Subaru to its fucking limit! And it was semi-Manuel so it pushed me. Took my head away from where my heart wanted it to be.
I know others night have thought it stupid, especially with the fact my sister LaFall died in a car crash. And honestly, I can't say that I didn't want to die either right then. But I didn't. So I still have work here to do obviously.
Obviously some work