General Buzz, Miscellany, Uncategorized

Nothing I Can Do

I’ve been listening to a lot of REO Speedwagon lately. And “liking” a lot of pictures of Taylor Cole. Because she’s pretty, but harmless, you know? Someone out there in Celebrityland, making movies, and appearing on TV, being a world famous pop star. It’s sort of like, she isn’t really….real. Just someone to dream about I suppose. Or distract a broken heart. That was kind of what I was thinking anyway.

I guess I was trying somehow to mentally block out the fact that I have spent the last seven years of my life having what amounts to a delusional relationship with someone I haplessly and hopelessly fell in love with. From afar.

Someone who never knew that I existed. Someone who, along with her chic, stylish, hip and fashionable friends mock people like me for admiring people like her. For falling for people like her. For caring about people like her. For falling in love with her.

I thought–certainly hoped–it would be different. She was real, I knew she was real. I saw her there, in the flesh, I watched her play, so many times, I cheered her, we stood inches apart one day. Heidi. I saw her Mom tell her what to eat and when, and I saw her eat crap from a food truck. I took so many photos of her. She was so pretty, but God, she was a real, at least somewhat human, lunch-from-a-food-truck-eating-normal-girl. I was in love with her the second I saw her. But I never said hello to her. I was too scared of her. She was too beautiful. Too beautiful. The thought of what she would say, laughing, teasing, mocking….even as I stood there dazzled by her beauty, I could only imagine what she must have done with the carcasses of the guys who’d tread this same path before me.

For so long I wanted to believe I was wrong, that maybe she was different, that maybe she was really just a girl, waiting for her boy, on the other end of the line. And everything seemed so…real. I thought that, somehow, the videos and the messages were a way that two scared people were talking to each other, getting to know one another in this crazy, fucked up, cybershit-filled world we are doomed to live in. Whenever I would “blink”, with something, a video, a “like”, and comment”, a post, something, I thought she was blinking back.

That’s crazy, huh?

It is. Being semi-competent at what I do for a living I dug deep, and the things I discovered over the days, weeks, months and years I think I now simply have to chalk up to the fact that things aren’t the way I perceived, and she isn’t “blinking” back at all. From a practical standpoint alone, it wouldn’t seem she’d have any time to spend watching videos on youTube. So what I have come to think is that, maybe all along it’s just the fact that I fell in love with a “public figure” who has lusty, enthusiastic fans and business colleagues and connections and marketing people and agents and clients and suitors and whatnots who want to see pictures and video of her, for business reasons, or for for their personal “entertainment”, and they, not she, are the ones who watch. And knowing how I feel about her, they mock, and tease, and laugh, and along with her, think how silly and stupid and worthless it must be to be someone like me.

The Bonnie Tyler song Total Eclipse of the Heart is totally accurate. When we suffer a heartbreak of the worst magnitude, one like this, it is in fact all that matters. It consumes us. It makes us non-functional. It makes both our hearts and our brains…stop. I wish that weren’t true but it is.

I wish I could just throw myself away and be someone else.

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General Buzz, Heidi, Miscellany, Uncategorized

Remember?

I’ll bet it never occurred to yo–to her. When I ‘liked’ this pic a week or so ago. This one…

Somewhere cold ❄️☃

A post shared by @ heidelzz on

I was thinking of her.

Three, um, no, four years ago. I was cold then, too. And she was standing next to me, so close, yet as far away as ever. For so long, it seemed, yet we never spoke. Never said a word. And after she left, I took out my phone and posted a message to my friends. About how cold it was in Daytona. And how standing next to her made me feel so much warmer.

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General Buzz, Miscellany, Uncategorized

Empty

Something is wrong. Constantly nauseated. Constant pain inside. I have no appetite.

I guess I know when it started. Finding out that she never knew how I felt. That it was some perverted ape all along, watching, taunting. Deliberately trying to ruin my life.

Why can’t I choose who I want to like? Why does it matter to you, whoever you are? What do you get from coming here, reading my private thoughts about her? Unless you’ve got a ring on her finger it’s no business of yours what I feel or think.

Go away. You’ve hurt me, made me do and assume and presume and write things I wish I hadn’t and will regret until I’m dead. Because unlike you, I truly care for her, and I would rather die than live believing that I hurt her. I may never have a chance to meet her, this girl of my dreams, but I care about her more than you could ever possibly understand. Because I genuinely fell in love with her. You can never change that, only interfere, if your life is that empty and if you think you can.

Why not be decent and mind your own business and let me have a bit of peace?

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General Buzz, Miscellany, Uncategorized

1 3 5 6

Quite obviously, I was wrong. Once again. All along. Always. And there is no more escaping the inescapable. No more rationalizing to be done. No more romanticizing about a future with someone that will never never come to pass. No more dreaming. No more hoping. I have been a complete and utter fool.

Duped by a collection of perverts who have nothing better to do with their lives than sit in front of their computers and other smart devices holding their dicks and rubbing one out to any and every picture of a woman in a bikini or short skirt and clingy top, or, more likely, less. So all this time, what I thought might be My Girl, touched by my words, and by the videos I’d made for her, …. the reality of who’s been watching, reading….it is enough to make me want to vomit. To die. To get cancer and die. You have no fucking clue what you did to me. If I ever find you…..

But for now it’s time to wake up. And realize that the someone will never care, because she was never there.

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General Buzz, Miscellany, Uncategorized

Oh!

Oh! It was as subtle as one of those metaphorical frying pans in the face, but I think I understand a little better now. Maybe. I’m sorry if I was too stupid or ignorant or blind or just plain dumb to get it. But you are very clever, aren’t you?

This way..this way of learning each other is hard.

But seven years later, nearly, here I am, and the one constant is that is that it is still you. Only you. My stomach is in knots most of the time over you. Most of the time it’s because I don’t understand. Probably not smart enough. You know about the videos. Fans asked, I shot them on my vacation, it was like being at work chasing down players I was mostly disintersted in. A few I liked, because I’d seen them play before, in Miami, or locally, or because I found their ballbashing games akin to my own, but c’mon, who besides someone involved in tennis has time to follow hundreds of players? I took lists of requests to tournaments to shoot hours upon hours of tennis video for fans and followers of certain players, period. I’m sure you know how to search deep and check that out if you really need to bother.

Ask youself an honest question about the content I have posted from tournaments the past few years. Do nearly all of the opponents look familiar? So now you know. The videos–that stuff’s for you. I thought perhaps you might either want to look back on your triumphs, or study past opponents, re-live old memories, maybe use them for coaching, if that’s in your future. Or present. I’d shitcan it all in a second if I knew or thought it hurt you to have any of it on the Internet. I didn’t and don’t shoot it for me, and except for what I’ve shot of you over the years, I don’t think I’ve ever watched any of it.

That’s crazy, but true. You’re truly the love of my life. Now, if only I could actually meet you someday….

I do like going to an occasional local tournament though, because it gets me out of the office one or two days out of the year. I promise, all I do is think about you though.

Seven years later and it’s still you. Only you. I don’t know if that means anything to you. It does to me. It always will. You always will.

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General Buzz, Miscellany, Uncategorized

If I’m Wrong…

If I’m wrong, and as you can plainly see by now, I have been and can be wrong about as often as the wind blows in Chicago, I can admit to it. And I would be the first to apologize humbly and tell you how sorry I was. I’m not petty and small and hurtful by nature like that.

But if I’m wrong, why do you hide behind a veil of secrecy and make it so difficult, so complicated, so frustrating to figure out and understand? I am straight up, not a gameplayer. I’ve admitted that I do the stupid sh%t I do because I like you. Because I want to meet you and get to know you and find out everything there is to know about you. That’s my nature. Chalk it up to my job, I guess. I’m just trying to learn about you. Draw you out if I can. And I’m trying to protect my heart and not get hurt at the same time.

I enjoy a challenge, this one is exceptionally tough. Either you aren’t what you appear to be, or you carefully and cautiously hide behind some intricate and deliberately misleading veneer. And I honestly have no idea which is the truth. But enough. If you are taken, or ‘unavailable’, or merely teasing because you dislike something I wrote or made or did, or have nothing better to do, just say so, and we can go opposite directions and never have to cross paths again.

‘Beautiful.’ ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You.’ You vs. J__. I guess they aren’t as flattering as I saw them and hoped you’d find them, now that I see how often they are watched, and looked at them, and googled, and see how obsessed you must think me. But that wasn’t my intention. And if you read my story about you, the one here, all of it, start to finish, you’d know that. You’d understand how much respect I have for you and how I came to feel the way I feel, why I felt I could never say ‘hello’ despite all of those chances. Believe me, how I wanted to.

And then I would look at your pictures, and see the rings on your fingers. And your friends, and the glamorous lifestyle. And I lost hope. I knew then, I suppose, that people like me just don’t belong with people like you.

I was so excited the day you accepted my friend request on Facebook. It was the same day, I think, that you changed your tag line on Insta, I was dumb enough to think maybe there was a hidden meaning in it (‘I got an email to-day…’) And then I thought I was blocked, that I had offended you with a video or a comment on a photo, and despondent, I went away, not for the first time. Because my mind moves at warp speed and I don’t understand the analytics behind Insta or Twitter or whatever and I don’t understand the significance of a ‘like’ on a post other than every time you see the person you care about ‘like’ someone’s post it hurts like hell and leads to sleepless night after sleepless night because it allows for every possible connotation.

Shit, it’s horrible to see myself type that and then read it. It’s raw, it’s emotional, it’s honest. I’m saying it because I have, from day one, written/told or found other ways to communicate to you exactly how I felt about you. I have never given you a ‘line’ or tried to sugarcoat anything or sweettalk it to put a ‘move’ on you, someone I don’t even know. How would that work anyway? Everything I’ve written or said, I meant. It was exactly how I was feeling when I said it or wrote it, and by reaching out to you now, even though I’ve pulled away, for now, to gather my thoughts, I still adore you beyond words, every bit as much as the day we figuratively first ‘met.’

Look, I certainly don’t want to interfere in someone’s life or relationship(s), nor do I want to go down in history as some sort of lunatic or laughingstock or inside joke behind my back. And that’s just the way it feels. If you were upset about something, you could ignore it, stay away, or have the content removed. I would do it in a heartbeat if I knew that caused you embarassment, hurt or pain. I don’t want to offend you. Yet time and again, each day, there are the’views.’ Sometimes there are ‘likes’. Always when your friends play, so it’s hard to believe it isn’t you. Let alone from some of the ‘geographies.’ Is that with a VPN or do you have that much wanderlust?

At any rate, sometimes, the coincidence of the timing of a view being from a certain place is just about what I imagine it must be like getting hit in the face with a frying pan. It’s an “Oh!” moment of clarity that gives me some hope, briefly, before I start overthinking it. Sometimes it feels like we’re married. And I confess, you have no idea how that makes me smile.

Or is it ypur friends watching, and you simply don’t care at all? Was I right, and it’s all a game of mocking or teasing some poor loser who has a silly crush on you?

Or maybe, you or your friends or s/o or ‘people’ are just watching to keep tabs because you are alarmed. That thought hurts. Or perhaps you are taken. That hadn’t really occurred to me. I thought that, as much as you and your friends seemed to lament the ‘single life’ on social media, maybe you were unattached, but maybe I got it wrong. But maybe it was them lamenting and you sympathizing. Maybe you are happily ever after with the someone of your dreams, like I hoped you would be in mine.

If any of these things is the case, just find some way to let me know, and I’ll get rid of everything, cry my eyes out, watch a ton of ’80’s romantic comedies and find someone else.

On the other hand, if I am wrong, please find an unequivocally clear way to let me know, because my own feelings about you should be clear as crystal to you by now. That’s my one hope–that perhaps we may actually be soulmates, destined, at some point, to finally meet.

Maybe it isn’t really you. Maybe I am so crazy after all that this is some bad dream and I am making my memories and ‘moments’ with you available to nothing more than a bunch of horny perverts. That would be bitter and cruel irony. Either way, if you read this, or if you don’t, I hope this explains everything in way that helps you understand.

And yes, I think I love you.

But I am prepared to walk away. Because I love you. I am pretty sure that I dreamed you into life. And I will always love you.

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