October 1st, 2008. That’s when it started. I drove to work, walked into my office, sat down at my desk, booted up my computer and as soon as my fingers touched the keyboard, I began to sob. And from that point forward, I sobbed every day for a year. From October 1st, 2008 to October, 2nd 2009, I sobbed. For one entire year. Every single day.
At the time, I didn’t know why I sobbed. I just sobbed, and it wouldn’t stop. It was like vomiting out the emotion of a thousand years, and I was surprised I had that much in me. I didn’t like it. I wanted it to stop.
I’m pretty much fucked. That’s my considered opinion. Fucked.
Okay. Those aren’t my words. I just read them in this book, The Martian. But still that’s how I feel. Moreover, I just started that novel, but, now, I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to finish it. My phone is almost dead. My book is on my phone. I even had to delete that book app, and pretty soon I could be stuck in the mucking fother boondocks, shoulder deep in mud. No food. No water. No Google. No book. I very well may be doomed. Just like that guy in that novel who was left alone there on Mars for a while.
I’ve been keeping it a secret. But, I just can’t keep it to myself any longer.
I’m in love. I’m in love with my imaginary boyfriend and his name is Travis. His name is what I first fell in love with. Everything else I fell in love with came shortly thereafter.
Travis Lee Worter. I call him Trav for short. I often tease him that he needs a “Jr.” or a “II” or a “III” after Worter. When I first teased him, he sorrowfully bowed his head and whispered to me that he no longer has his father.
Below in the garage of this building in which I reside sits the Teenage-mobile. A 2003 silver Corolla – owning no hubcaps, doors dented, back bumper askew, scrapes and scratches, with a total of 253,080 miles to its name – well, as of today.
I am only 6 weeks into this blogging thing. I guess I could be considered a “Blogger” since I’ve written and published my first post, not to mention the following three posts. And now this one. However, I’m certainly no expert at it, and it doesn’t make me any money, and I don’t have a million followers – Yet. But I get to practice and learn everything I want. And that’s all the satisfaction I need. For now.
To the layman this is difficult to explain. For the layman it may be difficult to grasp. Because the layman, apparently, knows a thing or two about blogging. I know. I’ve heard. I just may be doing it all wrong. Actually. Evidentally. Apparently. Indubitably.