The Middle of My Life: My 35th Birthday

So this is it? I’m glad I made it here, but at the same time I really am asking myself, “What the fuck happened?” My best friend from high school now has a PhD and is married, travelling the world. My high school sweetheart is married, with a degree, and thriving as an Air Force officer. Last my internet stalking told me anyway. My list of realities as mentioned in my blurp are lacklustre, at best. I say lacklustre, simply because I enjoy using the word, but they’re literally depressing.

I’m certain my mother would tell me to count my blessings and focus on the positive things going on rather than the negative. In the grand-scheme of things that only takes a split second. Because the only good thing I have in my life right now are my children. And I have ALWAYS looked down upon those who use their children as a crutch for their self-esteem. Our children are not here to make us feel good about ourselves. That’s not their burden to carry.

However, as I’ve started writing this blog nearly two weeks before my birthday, they undoubtedly have planned and executed something unforgettably thoughtful for their dear, old Dad. I’ll stop here and continue after I know what it is…

20 Sept: Well, that little Jaidyn… her mother and I say we can always count on her, and it’s true.  Seeing as how all I want for my birthday [as far as my kids are concerned] is to just do well in school and be respectful.  I don’t know of any parent who would tell their kid they want something for their birthday.  However, through the years they’ve seen it fit to do special little things for us and their grandparents and I think it speaks more to who they are and not to what we request of them, or what they think we want. With that being said, I pulled up to Ansley’s house just before what should’ve been bedtime and I could see through the front window that the kids were eating dinner.  Which means showers hadnt been taken and chores hadn’t been accomplished.

My soon-to-be ex 350Z has a pretty loud NISMO exhaust, so I can see Mr. Obvious [Reilend] peeking out of the window.  Next thing I know, before I step out of the car onto the steep driveway, the lights go out.

A surprise and utterly adorable rendition of the traditional “Happy Birthday” song is offered by my four oldest children when I step inside, while the youngest stands there beaming a smile at me bright enough to blind the sun. Hugs. The swelling of my heart, and the bittersweet disappointment of how incredibly messy Ansley’s house was came next.  Jaidyn goes to bring me a big pink box which read “Daddy’s Memory Box”.  While one of her brothers tries to take partial credit for the gesture, Jaidyn’s look towards me said otherwise.  She’s so thoughtful.  I get caught up on the day and leave after grabbing a bottle of water and kissing all the kids goodnight.

I get back in my car and play this song over and over. As I think back over my day.  My life.

 

On September 18th, Farrah… a person who I’ll be mentioning several times during this blog called and told me she had a hotel room that I could stay in, in Ft. Worth.  She could either stay there with me, or I could go there alone, but it was essentially for me because… well, I’m homeless. LoL.  She cares a lot more for me than she should, and she wants to do much more for me than she can.  It’s admirable. More than I can express with words I’m afraid.

It seems like every year, I meet someone who surprises me with how much they care for me.  In the same token, it’s always a surprise how much they can let me down.  It’s up to me, of course to decide which side of that coin I want to focus on.

It’s kind of hard to focus on the negative though when this girl did the two things that I announced I wanted for my birthday.  Out of all the people who say they WANT me, or LOVE me, or want to be with me or WHATEVER, yet find themselves doing absolutely nothing for me.  Bitches these days [sorry… I just felt like I haven’t cursed enough in this blog] seem to be into all the new-age relationship ideaology.  Like “Love languages”.  Well, if I were into that bullshit, I’d say mine is ACTS OF SERVICE. Anyone who knows me, KNOWS that.  If you say you want something, or love something or need something or WHATEVER, SHOW IT!  DO SOMETHING! I don’t think it’s worth it to you if you don’t.  How could it be? If I want a woman, I work for her.  I don’t wait for signs.  I don’t wait for… anything, really.  I go to work.  I expect the same.  So, this particular woman, on the day before my birthday, put in some work.  She also gave me a gift… The shirt that I told eveyone on Instagram and Facebook that I wanted.  She didn’t make excuses like…

Well, you didn’t call/text and tell me directly you wanted it

Well, we aren’t together…

I’m broke…

I don’t like ordering things off the internet

 

No… she got me the fuckin shirt. She saw also that I wanted cheesecake factory for my birthday.  The woman took me to the cheesecake factory.  I think often times women believe during courtship they’re the only ones who need their needs catered to.  Or their wants even.  They’re supposed to get everything they want, while a man is supposed to be satisfied, just because you’re giving up some time or some pussy… or whatever it is you naturally have to offer.  Naw, bitch.  Do some work.  I’m not talking about me in particular, because as far as what I feel I deserve at the moment… she does too much for me.  But it’s what she wants… so she works for it.  Same as anything else in life.  Anyone saying/doing any different, is just full of shit, and really doesn’t want you/it.  I know of several women who will take this very blog as a reason to give up persuing me, simply because I’m talking about another woman doing shit for me.  It’s just a copout, from a woman who didn’t plan on doing those things anyway.  That’s why you bitches are single.

OK.  That’s enough cursing.  Back to the story, We left the cheesecake factory, and as she knows, I want to go do Karaoke.  Just like any other day.  We meet up with Cliff, MY best friend, and we head for Yupp’s!  Our lovely little karaoke bar in Ft. Worth. I walk in, strutting to the music as  always… look up and see this.

So, I’ve never had a birthday party before. Like… ever.  I’m pretty sure she knew that.  And even though, my initial party started out with 3 people, myself included, it was the most special thing anyone above the age of 12 [excluding my parents] has ever done for me. So, I’m not certain if we are going to become an item at any point, but she is going to be stuck with me in her life in some form or fashion forever. The surprises kept coming.  There was a cake with my name on it… the whole bar sang happy birthday to me. It was a whole… planned out thing!  For me! It was beautiful. My table even had a purple tablecloth!   Then she got up there, and sang karaoke… to me.  A song by Leela James.

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These two things: my children singing, and Farrah singing for me… I couldn’t bring myself to even try to capture on video.  The most beautiful moments in life… I think are too important; should be enjoyed organically, in-the-moment, and to be seen only in your thoughts, and shared only by the beholder’s tongue. Cliff got up and sang one of my favorite tunes.  It was just a great night.

Thanks, Cami

The next day, I got up and watched Jerry Maguire, while I ate my leftovers… yes, my tradition was a bit soiled… but I don’t waste food.  Whether I’m homeless and broke, or living-it-up and thriving, I don’t waste food.  I really really try not to anyway lol. Especially slices of cake sold at $7.50 a pop.

And I’m 35 now. What my long-lost sister, LeVaughn told me was the middle of our lives. And what do I have to show for?  After all this.  The niceties of my birthday.  I, Robert Lovelle Rooks am incapable of simply ignoring the fact that I’m not where I should be [by my own standards] by this point in my life.  Matter-of-factly, I’m not where ANYONE should be.

 

A few weeks ago, I was speaking with someone at the Texas Workforce Commission [the unemployment office] explaining to me what the difference was between my situation and being “Legitimately Homeless”.  It was quite enlightening.  And if I can be frank with myself, I’m not even good at being homeless!  I’m not homeless enough! LoL.  This motherfucker told me that I really wasn’t homeless because I spent the night with a “friend” the night before.  Apparently a homeless person is one who has no place to go, and is living in a homeless shelter, mission, or who sleeps on benches, or under bridges.  The fact that I could sleep with a friend or in my car, meant that I basically wasn’t homeless.

Here I was thinking it simply meant I didn’t have a home.

When I got back from Iraq, legitamtely going through my divorce, I spent literally 49% of my money getting Ansley and the kids a place to live. Paying up the bills and another 30% on my vehicle.  I figured since I was giving her the two paid off vehicles we had that I’d need one just in case I wanted to go get a job or… to the Waffle House. Whatever.  A new associate of mine explained to me that boundaries are important in a divorce.  So I gathered that continuing to cohabitate with Ansley was probably not a good idea.  Seeing as how that was the reason she convinced me to pay for this divorce in the first place. Since she got a job which she works over night 4 days a week, I offer to watch the kids.  I want, need and deserve first right of refusal, and the kids I like to believe, like to see me every once in a while… and furthermore, I’m their fasther so… yea, I do that.  But when I’m not there, I’m… illegitimately homeless lol.  I don’t tell people these things for pity or help, I do so because it’s the truth.  And the whole truth is, I’m disappointed with where I am at 35.

Divorced, unemployed, overweight, broke, battleing insomnia, homeless and I can’t bowl over a 200 to save my fucking life! It’s embarrassing.  Walking to a bowling alley with all my shit one would think I’m like the tallest black dude on the basketball court… about to dominate.  Nope..  I’m hitting 150’s and 180’s and other bullshit like that.  And if you’re wondering if I’m seriously disappointed in that, you’re right… I am.  May sound ridiculous, but I’ve been bowling since I was like… 7.  My dad was a good bowler and I’ve always aspired to be one.  My ability to bowl well and my ability to consistently do so without getting frustrated are two very different things.  But no… it’s not nearly as important as the other things, just another peice of kindleing to add to the rather large stack in the fire which is my life.  At 35,  I feel like I should have done more.

Could you be more optimistic? Yea!  Sure, I could.  But it seems like a lot of the same things I was disappointed about when I was 30, I’m still disappointed about 5 years later.  How many times do I have to go through this?  Is adulthood really supposed to be one disappointment after another? And I don’t mean from life… or other people, you can’t control that.  I’m disappointing MYSELF!

I’d like to think I was a good father, but this very divorce, which most would look at as a good thing, to me is an extreme negative in the parenting department. A failure.  Yet still, she pushed for this divorce and made me look like I was dragging my feet because I still wanted to be with her.

No, booboo… I just didn’t want to rip our family apart, and leave our children solely in the hands of someone who has never reached the rite of passage called adulthood.  Never been able to fully sacrifice the things she wants to offer the kids what they need. There’s a huge difference in keeping kids alive and being a good parent. Of course, I’m not the best parent in the world, but I do know that I need to teach my children to be better than I am.  That includes continually stepping my game up and being a good example for them! Not setting them back for my personal gain.  To make myself look or feel good.  We’re both in our 30’s!  We’ve had enough time to feel good.  As I work on trying to set boundaries, I see the slippery slope her household is ALREADY ON, and how she is incapable of doing this. Even the most simple of daily tasks, much like when we were married. Incapable of staying awake during the day time to watch Olivia.  Incapable of paying for all the things that need to be paid for.  Incapable of even helping the kids with their homework as it becomes more and more complex. But still finding time for Yoga, hanging out with ‘friends’ and family, bringing random guys around the house and our kids and generally just NOT being at the house where they all live making it more livable. The mother of my children wasn’t raised very well, and I have to suffer letting her raise my children without me being there.

Perhaps this is what this is all about.  I’ve tried to be accomodating, helpful and all that.  But at the same time, I haven’t left enough for myself to offer my children a healthy alternative.  A home which revolves around cleanliness, timliness, rountines and fun and respect.  One which everyone understands their respoonsibility, and doesn’t think that weekends are meant for sleeping all fucking day.  That in life you’re to strive to DO what you say you’re going to do.  Not just talk about shit. This, the situation I have our children in right now is something I also see as a personal failure.

Anyway… That’s it.  I’m disappointed in myself. I’m not a pessimist, I’m not an optimist, I’m just honest, and realistic. I could be fatter, I could be more in shape, but the fact is, I’M OVERWEIGHT.

I could be selfish and keep most of my money for me and get that 5 bedroom 3 bath, 3116 sq ft. home in Desoto, and I could be legitimately homeless, but I am homeless… I generally don’t have anywhere to lay my head or shower [til I bought my family -including ansley- that membership at the YMCA last week].

I am a published author, and there are people who like my books and blogs.  I’m not an accomplishged, best-selling or well-sold author… but I COULD Be!  One day!  See what I mean?  There really isn’t any point to being optimistic to me, and being pessimistic is being down-right negative.

But the facts are these.  And I’m at the middle of my life. Wondering how much longer…

 

But foreal, thank you to everyone who text me or called or sent me goofy pics and shit for my birthday.  These things I do appreciate, and it is nice to know that I’m on the minds of a few of you, and it means a lot.

Calls: Mommy, Constance, Farrah, Fallon, Cami, Jeanele

Facebook Postings: Mary, Rita, Christine, Cliff, Farrah, Laura,  Devon, Jeanele, Benjamin, MeghAN,

Texts/Pics: Tina,  Jaidyn, Reilend, Aniyah, Cliff, Fallon, Farrah, Kim, Ansley, Brandy, Deborah, Cami, Noelle

thanks, Deb!

Skype: Sheila

All the people on IG, Mark and Yupp’s and others in-person.  Thank you.

I like my small circle.

 

Scream at me