Starting Over- Again

I've become quite the martyr as I continue to inch closer to 30, which is just around the corner at this point. Knowing everything that I know now, and all the close calls, I'm just happy to have made it this far. I still want to share this with my kids, or whoever I leave behind when my time comes. Maybe it could comfort them when they inevitably find themselves neck deep in a latrine as I have. Life is really good about passing hardship out, though it's a bit too random for my liking. But I digress - 

As of Tuesday, I was fired from my job no more than 24 hours after returning from my honeymoon with my lovely wife. That's of course aside from the fact that during the honeymoon, I got a cut on my knee that got infected, a rash that spread all over my legs from... something in the sand? Still have no clue about that. Oh, and I cut my toe on some coral. Moreover, we're broke because my wife's family made the wedding about them, which of course meant more money out the ass for a whole lot of nothing-sandwich additions that we didn't care for, and weren't covered on their end. Naturally. 

Thankfully we got some money from our lovely guests, though I'm sure it would disappoint them to know that all of it will be funneled into bills and survival at this point. But such is life. 

Anyone who has known me in the last 7 years would know (and laugh) at my life's trajectory, because it has been nothing short of "colorful." Routinely I wrestle with myself, somewhere between brushing my teeth and clicking my seatbelt, thinking "what the fuck am I doing?" So much of life is found in how we love others, and yet all of that fails to pay bills or fill bellies. It would be one thing if I could just sweat it out on my own, but I'm responsible for another person now- for life. And now I'm left thinking, as I tend to do, against all odds "I'll always be the biggest hardship in her life." I'm her struggle, the anchor that drags behind when winds are filling sails. 

So, I regret to inform you, my dear wife (and children?), that I'm smoking again. And drinking just enough to not be an issue, but enough to flick my liver in the forehead during these idle hours. But I'm working on it. 

Instead of throwing myself more of a pity party than I already have, let's do some recap - 

One of the last things I wrote on this blog was a "open letter" that I sent over to a lovely girl who, after a couple of years, is now my wife. I had it in my head that she always would be, but the years in between were far from easy, so believe me when I say it wasn't always a given. 

Not too long after, I asked her to be my date for a wedding in October, the same night that I came home to the news that my roommate had died (though the cause is still cloudy, which is really all the information you need to be able to make your own conclusions). The first two weeks of us giving it a real go were riddled with late night cigarettes, juggling two full-time jobs and donating blood just to be able to take her on a date. But she loved me anyway. 

A month later, my shack I was living in sprung a leak and froze over, causing just about everything I owned to be reduced to rust and waste. So for the following 6-8 months I was jumping between her apartment and my childhood room at my parent's house. It was a hard, horrible time but I had to make it on my own. I had to do it for myself. And so I did. 

She had just gotten into grad school, which unfortunately meant that the relationship might have a deadline, but we soldiered on and I made it up in my head that I wasn't going to go down without a fight- so we didn't. She left, I got better work, saw a doctor for the ulcers I developed from the stress, and I found some semblance of peace (as I know it). 

For two years, any dollar or hour of time-off I had went straight to her, jumping on planes to see her at every opportunity I could while she was off across the country. Not every excursion was a highlight, but it continued to build a foundation that we get to stand firm on, now. You would be safe to assume that mixed in with all of that was a whole slew of tragedies, financial hardships, missed calls and weeks being out of synch. But we made it work. 

Eventually she moved back home, and in with me, as she finished out her rotations. At that point, I was working an awful job, playing high level rugby and coaching a high school team, so we basically never saw each other for more than an hour most days unless she had some sleep she was able to sacrifice. Often times it wasn't an option, yet and still, we pressed on. 

Next thing you know, I proposed, she passed her boards, and then boom - we moved to the east coast to chase her dreams. The move was anything but easy, but ya boi drove a got damn 16' truck for 24 hours with maybe 2hrs of stoppage time total, so if nothing else I gained quite a bit of mental fortitude, in case I had been lacking. 

We struggled early because my work promised to start me in December, but didn't actually get their shit together until late April. Looking back on it, I already knew it was going to be a shit-show but at the end of the day, I just needed the money. I was tired of struggling and introducing my eventual wife to what financial hardship looks like. Not every experience in life should be shared. 

So here I am now, happily married, miserably unemployed, beefing with my 8lb rat of a cat and trying to make the most of this "honeymoon" phase before it slips away from me. 

But life is bigger than this.

God is good- confusing as fuck, but good.

And life is fine for now.

And we will make it work.

If the most I ever do in this life is love my wife, and make her life just a bit more colorful, then that's just going to have to be enough for me. And I'm reminding my calloused heart that I'm okay with that.