When I was a much younger person the Mayberry was always there for me, as I was lonely, essentially a typical basement dweller. I got involved in Sherdog and started training BJJ, and found the more I got into that, got out of the house, got fit, got confident the less I needed Sherdog. The less I posted in the Mayberry. Well I got involved with a woman who just tore me down in a lot of ways and my mental illness, depression, anxiety, anti-social disorder, came raging back. I quit training to focus on her, she became the most important thing in the world to me. And well, you guys mostly know how that worked out. Well, she finally left me as I posted not long ago. It took a while to get that situation sorted out. Her brother came and got all her shit. The divorce is uncontested. There was a pretty clear line between what was hers and mine, I gave her any of the little things she wanted. Papers are signed and in the courts hands now. She tried to come back 2 weeks after leaving. I told her to piss off, she is back in town now living with her brother, I guess her parents could not handle her. I am sitting in my truck right now. Everything I own in the world is packed under the tano cover. My dog is on the seat next to me. It is overcast, and looks like it might start raining soon. I have an old friend, and by that I mean a friend who is an old man. He was a drifter most of his life. Has lived everywhere in the country. He rode his bike from Wisconsin to Homestead, Florida one winter. He told me when he turned 18 and finally left home he kept a coin in the ashtray of his truck and whenever the mood hit him he flipped it. If he was travelling south, then heads was east and tails was west and he would just change direction. There is a quarter set on the dash in front of me. It is a 1981 quarter that I kept in my watch box for a few years, because I was born in 1981. I sold a lot of stuff. I had a $4,000 bike that I got $800 bucks for and a bunch of other stuff that I just firesold on Facebook. My wife and I split the savings account. I have $13,000 in a check box under my truck seat. I have a Remington 870 that my grandpa gave me and a box of 00 buckshot behind the seat, I am not supposed to have it. But I do. I am listening to the Jason Isbell album Southeastern and typing this post on my laptop. I am still connected to the wifi inside the house from the driveway. When I leave my ex wife will be moving back in. I made a lot of fucking mistakes in my day, and I wonder if I can leave them behind. The hardest thing I ever did in my life was to tell that piece of shit woman that I did not want to be with her anymore. I told her to stay the fuck out of my life. Then I bawled like a fucking baby for an hour and hated myself. For (1) letting her go and (2) for being such a cuck that I cried for ditching her. My dog is whimpering and pawing at the door, he wants to go back inside, or in the back yard to play with his brother. Her dog. The one that aint coming with us. I loaded the shotgun this morning and sat on the toilet with it between my knees for a few minutes. I knew the whole time that I was not going to pull the trigger. But I wanted to feel like I could. Like right there in that moment was the proof that I had control over something. I am not a stupid guy. I guess that depends on how you define stupid. I have a Master's Degree in Urban Planning I finished it just before going away. But I have done a lot of stupid shit, so maybe I am. I have not been able to use it for anything, though. I am off parole, have been for a while, so if anyone was wondering that is not an issue. Anyway my street connects to a highway that runs north for about a hundred miles to a major interstate. And south a little farther to another. When I hit the stop sign I am going to flip the coin. I could probably live off that 13 grand for quite a while. Maybe I should use some of it to buy a camper for my truck? I dont think I really want to be a drifter though, I have always wanted to have roots. I dont really have family, a sister in Arizona somewhere with 3 kids and a meth addiction. Parents are still alive, but they wouldnt roll out any welcome mat for me, so I am not running toward them. Anyway, thanks for reading. Advice appreciated, as always.