The Best Of Intentions...

I've never calculated the odds, but whatever they were, the dice rolled in my favor. And I am able to write about it.

My blogs are primarily about my failures as a lover and best friend to the most wonderful girl in the world. And it was a result of her ending it that drove me to such an extreme measure.

The first time was the week after Christmas. Christmas Day she had sent me a text wishing me a Merry Christmas, when I knew she was spending it with the "new" guy...her "long lost love." It was disgusting, her wishing me such a thing on my first Christmas alone. I was already feeling ******, sitting in my family's living room where she would normally be sitting squashed up against me. This whole thing plagued me. How could I lose the man I was, and become what I had become? How could I have done all the stupid, horrible, disgusting things I had done?  I hated myself. I hated myself for letting us both down.



So I borrowed a friends revolver and loaded a single round. I spun the cylinder and slapped it down, locking it. My fate was sealed.

My hand shook so terribly as I held it to my head. But I pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. Three times. I couldn't bring myself to a fourth. I put the gun down and left the house for two days. I called off work and spent it at a motel, despite being broke.

The second time was the day after what would've been our 5th anniversary. The early part of November, when things were good between us, I had placed a reservation at the bed and breakfast where we were first intimate. That date came, but with no celebration. I cancelled the reservation the early part of January. But the day after, I drove myself to that same bed and breakfast. With the same gun. With the same intention, I parked in the parking lot where I first parked those many years ago. Sitting alone, in the cold, I pulled the gun from the center console of my truck. I remember how shiny the bullet was...how clean my truck was...and how I could smell my soap and cologne. Her favorite. The kind that always made her bury her face in my neck and chest and sniff, then make a silly, sexy yummy sound before kissing my neck. I started to cry so hard. The gun was so cold in my hands, but my hands were sweating so badly and my nerves so frayed I couldn't even lift it to my head. I just broke down and dropped the gun on the floor of the passenger seat. I just cried and cried. I drove home and took the gun back to my friend and told him what happened. He swore to never let me borrow it again.



I always made fun of her for saying she was going to kill herself...I guess we found out who the weaker one was.

TheHonestLiar TheHonestLiar
26-30, M
2 Responses Mar 10, 2010

Dude needs to get his gun checked out.

whoa. wow. you were really lucky. i am glad you are still with us.