Knowing Me
I was searching for some music to listen to, and I found a cd full of music I used to listen to when I came back from Texas. I was working to get over Eric, and burned a cd of music. I was with noah, but it was still only about 6 months since I left Eric. Eric, and the life that we had together, were hard to get over.
It's almost like an entirely different life, looking back on it now. It's almost like I was more free in spirit at that time then I am now. Maybe not so much free as there was a hell of alot more going on at that time. Maybe since so much was going on, I didn't have a chance to get into my mind and think about all the emotional bullshit so much. Who knows.

We left Portage, Indiana early in the morning, with everything for 3 people packed into a small Ford Ranger, driving non-stop for 22 hours straight to west Texas. Odessa, that was our destination. It was about 3 hours north of El Paso, and prolly about the same from New Mexico. I took lots of pictures of nothing. Road signs, us in the car, crazy stuff. It was a complete thrill. I was 19 years old, on the run from life, and on my way to Texas. We listened to music, watched the daylight and the sceenery change, and smoked lots and lots of weed.
It was just Eric, Daniel (his friend), and I. Eric was 28, and had lived in Odessa, Texas for a few years before he met me, that is where he met Daniel. They met up again when we were in Indiana, because they were both they were both roofers, and met up there roofing houses after a severe hail storm. Daniel had alot of friends in Texas, and even one that got him a one bedroom house to come back to. And thats where we were headed, to Daniel's house.
We knew we had somewhere to stay, didn't have to worry about that. They were roof/construction guys, they didn't worry about work. And me being female, knew that between two guys (was only with Eric though), I would be taken care of. No worries.
All I wanted to do was fly, and that I did. Met all sorts of people, lived with the excitement, drank the beers, smoked the cigars, and got the t-shirt and cup to go along with it. We made little trip toys out of bread sacks to go along with our acid nights. Drank lots of whine to bring us down to reality. And even had a few nights with the crazy woman next door.
After a while I began to wind down, trying to figure out what hell I'm doing with my life. Getting high everyday was becoming a little mudane, and staying home while the guys when to work, got quite boring.

Eric was a very suspicious character, so I had to get used to explaining everything that happened during the day. That really began to kill the fun. I wasn't going around giving bodily taste tests, I was very commited to Eric. He just didnt' want to believe that.
Even thought I am now happily married, I still believe Eric and I would still be together if he wasn't so jealous and controlling. He had alot of love in his heart, but he had alot of hate there too. The closest ones always pay for the hate.

Eric used to suspicious of Daniel too, especially since he lived in the same house. Suspicious that I was screwing Daniel, yet he always only confronted me about the 'problem'. That got old real quick. After about 4 months, I decided that the relationship wasn't going anywhere.

I took another trip. This time is was home. Iowa. Back to the place I was running from, and yet suddenly I was running back to it.
Before Eric and I moved to Indiana, we were both completely hooked on crank, I was shooting it. So I was going back to the scariest place I could think of going. The people where there, the 'tweek friends'. I was scared that they would find me. Thats prolly one of the big reasons why I stayed with Eric for as long as I did ( a year ). I hadn't done any crank since I had moved to Indiana, I wanted it, yet I didn't, I was fighting and scared.
I came back to Iowa, and I was okay. I hid out at my mom's for a few months, and then I met noah. What i can I say, noah is the calm after the storm. I gave him so much hell before we got married. I fought him for my extreme excitement, but in the end I let him win.

To sum it all up, it's too bad that most of our personal experience is unspeakable. It's that unspeakable truth that makes each of us difference for our own reasons. If you could understand my unspeakable truth, wouldn't you be my best friend, because you could finally relate.
But, if I took the time to tell you, would you get caught in the words I speak, and you understand them as only you could understand them (from your own personal life), and then judge my life because my life wasn't understood (lived) by you?