I’m going to be a Dad… (Part 2)

It’s hard to picture myself as a dad. The idea of somebody looking up to me, listening to my every word and relying on me to educate them about the world, is a scary one.

What the fuck do I know about life?

When Courtney called me up this time around, my reaction was a little less shocked. This is what we wanted. It was time for us to start our family.

But I still had this feeling in my gut. It was different this time. This time i wasn’t scared of having a kid…  i was scared of losing it.

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My Dog

I love my dog.

Her name is Navi. She is named after a sidekick in a video game i use to play when i was a kid. She is my sidekick.

Every night she alternates between laying down in bed with Courtney, and coming out to the lounge room to hang out with me. The little tag on her collar jingles as she wanders up and down the hallway.

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shopping for grandma

Sorry to the people who have been commenting on this whilst i was gone. I’ve been avoiding coming back here. My mood was a bit shit for the last month or so. I didn’t want to be constantly writing depressing blogs about how everything sucked, so i figured it be best to just avoid it for a while.

But i am back and ready to dribble a bunch of shit for you to read whilst sitting on the toilet.

I should probably start by addressing my current smoking status.

I am on those Champix pills now. I have accepted that i do not have the willpower to do it on my own.

Its been three weeks, and apart from a drag here and there, i don’t even want a smoke.

Sure, i have been having some crazy weird nightmares about people dying and orgy’s and other fucked up things that i would rather not talk about. I also have trouble distinguishing between reality and my dreams when i first wake up in the morning sometimes.

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How many of you guys have your ex partners name tattooed on your body?
I’m going to have a guess, and say the vast majority of people reading this would answer no.
I did it 😐
“You idiot. You are stuck with that for life now. Why would you do something so stupid?”
I was 18 And I genuinely believed what I had was going to be forever.
What could be more romantic than permanently writing that shit on your arm hey? There’s no way that’s a stupid idea..
Couple years later, things turned to shit, someone I considered a best mate did something that best mates generally don’t do, and that was that.

Anyhoo, Forgive but never forget, moving forward…
now I’m stuck with this tattoo on my wrist..
What a fuck up right?
I don’t look at my tattoo with regret. I’m not embarrassed by it.
Because it was life.
it was fucking real. I gave myself to someone. All the good and the bad emotions that came with it.
I didn’t hold back out of fear of looking stupid, or doing something stupid… And it resulted in me saying and doing stupid things.
I eventually became a pathetic mess of a person.
Until one day, I wasn’t. I bounced back.
It was life, a major chapter in my life that is now closed for good. And it’s all sealed away in that little mark on my wrist.
After that, I could have learned from my mistakes, been smarter, more careful.
But instead, I did it again.
I gave myself to another. Head first.
And it was the best thing I ever did.
We connected on another level. And our differing personalities means we have problems sometimes.
And It’s fucking awesome.
Because we work together to get past them.
And every time we get past them, we become even stronger.
In just over a year I’m marrying this person, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
And it never would have happened, if all the things that are stored inside that tattoo of mine never happened.
So, maybe one day I will get it removed, but right now, it reminds me of how I went to a place that felt like hell to my younger, more dramatic self. Yet I came out ok.
Still devo that I lost a friend.
But what can ya do