Breaking Up With Duo

It’s all my fault. Fool that I was -am- I should have said so. I’m not good enough, definitely not. I never had what it takes and I always knew. What do I have to show for it, a basket of broken dreams that are lighted splints screaming the hope of rejuvenation rather than the resigned, quiet, sooty residues I would have preferred? I don’t have what it takes, never did, and looking at what I have to show for trying, I never will.

It’s 10:13 pm, I should be praying now, reading my Bible and doing some me-time. Here I am though screaming typed letters at an audience I still sometimes do not believe reads it. I have the night ahead of me; if sleep deprivation or the unfit good habit of sleeping early that I picked up from my second-year landlord do not kill my awakeness in an armchair. I swore I would do better, this is what killed MB1 and now it has MB2 in a slowly tightening choke hold. For all my wishing, my whooshing and my working, I’m failing so spectacularly that all this in retrospect seems like a comedy show. I was never built for this and I have failed in making myself into what I was not built to be.

Ah, there, at 10:20 pm, my least, yet most favorite green cartoon owl with abandonment issues stands atop my notification bar, screaming death threats again. English death threats about learning French. I know, Duo, I know. Sincerely, man. It’s just, that I seemed to have overstepped myself trying to start a relationship with you. Dating, this thing we’ve got going, it can’t work, I’d need a 10-ton load of commitment to be the guy I want to be for you. You don’t deserve that and neither does Lily. I wish I could. Showing up every day at the same time for those few minutes of happy, didactic teté a teté, pure joy. You have to have felt what I felt. I know that joy, the joy that accompanied me here, that fuels the Me that gets up every time I break your heart and my streak. Yes, I need help, we both know I won’t get it though.

You know duo, I hate to say this but it might be all your fault. No, it IS your fault. You should have checked my history before agreeing to do this, you would have known then that this can’t be made to work unless you want to put in so much and get back too little. I’m flawed and I have the history to prove it. There’s BASIC and the entire 2007 Microsoft suite, but I never got to finish exploring the latter. And even then, it remains my greatest success. There’s Corel Draw, followed by HTML for a short spell. Then there’s Python again, and then HTML and CSS. Then, of course, my biggest obsession and most colossal failures were C language and copywriting. This ignores the other small failures I deign to mention; Adobe suite, graphic design, animation making, Manga, Anime, 3d design. I’m the correct spelling of JERK-of-all-trades. I hate to say all this but maybe we would have been better off never meeting, Duo.

I know, I know, my little sweet imparter of coded knowledge, I know. A breakup this way is not what you were expecting, you couldn’t have seen it coming. I didn’t see it coming either. It just hit me in the same fits of passion that got us together in the first place. Maybe I should have planned it better, maybe this is a mistake, but Duo, I’m tired. I give up on everything, I don’t care to be right anymore. I don’t care to be philos + Sophis anymore. I’ll just be the geek I’ve been told I am. I’ll do my best to stay fine in your absence, I hope you’ll do the same in yours. It might not look like it but I miss you so much. I miss all of you a lot. I wish I could go back to when being consistent was not a goal or a dream but an unconscious hobby. I don’t think I can be it anymore. I’ve tried too many times, and fallen too hard. I’m so broke and broken, that getting up would cost resources I don’t have with bones that work no more. So with my sincerest apologies, from a pained geek who has no obsession, I say have a nice life Duo.

Duo, you know though that I never stick with falling even though I can’t seem to stick with being on my feet either. I perambulate on everything, till I’m sick of the thought and I drop it. I wish I were different, to be one of those guys who know everything about themselves and are quite happy with what they know. They know when they’ll wake tomorrow if they are alive, when they’ll bathe and do dishes and whatnot. Most people are just born with it. Just what makes me inferior or undeserving of the gift? Don’t feel bad for me Duo. I never got to actually watch the process by which a child’s firmware and default software and settings are input into them. Here’s what I know, I might not have rolled the dice for what kind of settings I get and what kind of spoon I would be born with, but if I was born with any spoon at all, that spoon must be some weird material, because it doesn’t give up for long. I’m going to stick with it, getting up after I fall, I mean, not standing all the time. I might take loans to see me stand again, but I must see it to the end, or at least, see it’s end. Maybe, if we never met, there would not be any of these painful breakups. Maybe, if I kept the relationship with coding longer than I did, I would have kids whose dad is a rich tech bro. Maybe, if I was a little wiser and cut my coat the way I was sized, I would be in computer science or mathematics, rather than dentistry. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Yet I must remember that just like Willy Wonka, there’s no space to be had for what-iffers, even if I am the what-iffer. So do me this favor Duo, take this breakup and deal with it, but know on some subliminal level that I might come back on hands and knees in three days, begging to be set free, free to fly with you again. Free to fly in the dead of night. Thank you for the happiest hours of the last few days. Bye Duo. 

Your friend, Geek.

Wisdom Salami