::Let Me Clear My Throat::

I have a love/hate relationship with my own introspection. I love how I can be so attuned to myself and the inner workings of my own mind (thanks, years of meditation).   I kinda like how sometimes I over analyze things and manage to learn something about myself each time.  But I hate how that lesson is generally something negative.  I'm realizing that my life has been a series of 'almosts'.  Almost raised within a close knit, well-to-do family...except my father was the blackest of sheep and ostracized for being stupid, and his children were black by extension. Almost went to college and made something of myself...and then had a kid and watched those dreams go up in smoke. Almost got married...although I suppose that was a well dodged bullet.  Almost got that bad ass, major growth potential job that would have fixed me up for life...except old mistakes came back to haunt me, kicking me right the fuck off that ladder. Almost found love a few...

 Several months back, after a fight/"walk your ass home" marathon, the X, being the vandal that he is, decided to take out his frustration on a road sign...or three.  He found the blackest of black paint pens, and immortalized himself both coming and going, so that when I traveled this stretch of road as I often did (and still do), I would have a constant, unwelcome reminder of him whether I wanted to or not.  Thanks..you shouldn't have.  Really.   So, the other day I was alone in my car, feeling introspective, enjoying my own company, having a conversation with myself in my head-wait, you do that too, right? Of course you do-anyway, so I'm cruising along, and happened to come upon the sign, and realized, with sort of an odd pleasure, that his name was faded.  So many days I have passed that sign, and I looked at it every single time I passed.  For so long just the sight of it, bold, brash, larger than life, was like having a hot butche...