All right folks. Shit’s about to get weird. It may even stay like that. Something happened to me, something I have described elsewhere. A perspective shift, at its most basic. An idea, a feeling, a sense of one foot in this world, and one foot in something…else. Also, an overwhelming desire to write about it. Good for this blog, and putting words to things is good for me.
I’ve heard the comments. Until this very night, I didn’t give them much thought. “Brass balls”, “So brave”, and other things in the same vein. These are the responses from random people as I explained who I was, and what I’ve done.
What did I do? I broke, to be honest. I snapped. Living in a place as beautiful as Colorado, I could only see things through the lens of my history. 15 years (mostly), and the majestic beauty was lost on me. I could see Pikes Peak towering above me, I could feel the power of thousands of years of plates crashing together. I’ve walked it, I’ve driven it, I’ve looked at it. And each day, the Peak stands above me, making its presence known. And I couldn’t appreciate it. I could remember nothing but the times I’ve screwed up, the things I’ve broken, the people I’ve hurt, the people who’ve hurt me. It wasn’t a shadow of majesty, it was a shadow of history.
So I left. With $400 in my bank account, and $200 in cash, I left. No plan, no nothing. I bought that greyhound ticket to Fort Lauderdale, expecting to buy a ticket to San Diego. I only wanted an ocean. I only wanted a boat. And the better part of me, the better of all of us, she trusts me. Given all of the years of reasons not to, she still loves me. I call her my much better half, but she’s way more than that. Maybe later I’ll wax poetic about her. She deserves it. However, that’s not what this is about.
I threw it all away, and with nothing more than a pannier, a laptop, and a backpack, I set out. The call of the Ocean is strong, and I couldn’t resist it anymore. I spent a few nights on the streets, a night in a motel, and a few days in a hostel (not necessarily in that order). And I wound up buying a boat. A poor choice, made clear to me after the fact. Had I been one who thought he deserved, or was worthy of, help, maybe I could have dug deep, asked, and things would be easier. But I’m not that guy. I’m smart, but I’m broken. A mere hour drive away was one of the biggest tech hubs, and I was too broken to even try anymore.
So why would this place be different? It wouldn’t. But it’s not for me this time. At least, not just for me. I didn’t expect these first times to be easy, not with the abysmal amount of preparation I did. Plus the better half is certainly more responsible than me. And I left her. Knowing that this was going to be hard, I expected to wind up situations that I would not want her to be in. I am the vanguard, and my job is to make sure she comes to a safe situation as we plan our future of sailing. It came quite close to complete failure more times than I care to admit. But things are looking up now. And soon, we’ll be reunited.