Ramblings and thank you's

The day off was very boring. My day's off seem to become pajama days. I was laying awake last night staring at Marilyn. I found a new print of her that I really like. I hung my dream-catcher (purchased at yard sale)to keep the bogeyman of the nightmares away. I couldn't sleep still, so I did what I do best. I do the guilt game. Things I could have done better..I could have been a better wife. I could have been a better mother. That type of thing. Than it moved on to why chaos is so appealing to so many people. There is a certain thrill I think, especially when you are very young (mid twenties) to living in the underworld and all that goes with it. You feel untouchable, part of something different. An unusual way of existing. When you remove yourself from said world and learn normalcy, especially late in life, it is hard to swallow. The phone stops ringing all the time. No more hotels and parties. Not even shitty hotels and shitty parties. You gain about 15lbs. You go to work. That's it. So now I find my magic in words. That was what put me to sleep. I scribbled some in my notebook that stays in the bed with me. I have believed in magic since a young girl. I have searched for it in connections with people, in drugs and self-destruction. I watched my husband die in our bed from horrid healthcare when we moved to Ga. That was my life mate. When he died I fell backwards, out of control. I have only had two true friends in the last year. One is male one is female. My gentleman friend is an amazing man who has put up with more shit just being around me than most men would tolerate. He is uber conservative. He is 74. He just got fired a few months ago from a very prestigious job. He is not a yes man. I gently try to tell him to soften his tongue with people. I than learned you cannot change a 74 year old man. I probably would have been dead if it wasn't for him. He is very frustrated in this modern world of ours. I know, I am rambling..oh well. He has beautiful grown children and grandchildren. He is a widow also. We have been spending weekends together for about a year. My favorite part of the weekends is breakfast. He makes me feel human again..Sharing experiences, reading the paper over breakfast. The one thing he does that I adore? He is very proud of his Polish heritage. He gets frustrated with all the prompts. He wants to know why you aren't asked to push 1 for Polish. I have no answer, lol. Again, if it wasn't for him finding me waitressing at a Denny's in Baltimore I don't know where I would be today. He knows nothing of my struggles with the beast called addiction. I so want to share it with him, but am terrified he won't understand. How he couldn't know is beyond me. Since moving to Pa. I am financially independent. There are no weird situations requiring money at odd hours. I am healthy looking again. Maybe deep down he does know, but chooses not to see. He is so lonely. I have never really written about him before. He is a dinosaur in a world where they no longer exist. I tell him this all the time. He knows it, almost revels in it. I see his face soften when he speaks of his bi-lingual grandson that is his heart. I know who his favorite child is, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. I call him on it all the time. He hates the fact that I see these things. I guess the reason I am writing about him is I just got off the phone with him and he is off to the public library where he spends most of his days searching for a job. I think he would make a fabulous history teacher if he could keep the bias out of his voice. I guess me writing about him is my way of saying a private thank you. He would never want me to write about him. So thank you....for everything.