Putting things in perspective

 

October 6, 1980

 

This is the next to last page in this hard covered book I actually started on April 28, 1978 as a collection of poetry dedicated to the daughter I hadn’t seen then in more than a year, and haven’t seen since. On April 4, 1980, I started to use this as a formal journal – something I had done prior to that only informally, and often in an assortment of loose leaf notebooks. I started a regular daily journal for two classes with Dr. Mollenkott, getting me into the habit, although I also keep a fiction journal of potential story ideas that I started in 1978 when I decided I wanted to pursue a career in writing – none of those pieces appear in this book or as personal journals. I did a number of rock and roll journals, but none of those appear here either.

I don’t regret the change from poetry to journal, only that my daughter will not likely ever read either, and I wonder just how they are and where they went. I’m told they ended up in Portland, Oregon. But like this journal, situations change and she and my ex-wife could be anywhere at this point. I may never see either of them again.
My return to Boulder, Colorado with my current girlfriend is still up in the air, possible, but not probable. Since I once ran there in pursuit of my ex-wife, the vague idea that I might see her and my child there again nags at me, especially when I lean towards not going.

Back then, I hated New Jersey and wanted to escape it and the dismal destiny life with my family seemed to have planned for me. My ex-wife (Louise) and I broke up after our coming back for a number of reasons, not least was the dismal life I had inherited, a job, then no job, and apartment we could not afford, and this sense that we no longer belonged together, and that she already had visions of a life elsewhere without me – something that appears to be repeating itself now, but without as much to lose.

Back then, Louise had more to gain by going; now my girlfriend does as well.

And I have more to lose by following after her, though I ache to.

I regret some things in my life, but never enough to do them over, what is done is done.

But I am no longer the tender near 20 kid I was when I started that first journey west, if not wiser now, then at least wise enough to learn from my mistakes, and that leaving a life I have just started to rebuild is a mistake unless I have a clear life I can build on the far side. The first time around, I had no plans for anything, and the same seems to be true this time as well.

Perhaps writing it all down in books like this will help put it all into perspective for me.