Scottsbluff, Nebraska
Scottsbluff, Neb., is in a neat area of Western Nebraska. You have the cool rock formations, of course, but you also have Wildcat Hills State Recreation Area, which I've wanted to visit for years. You can just imagine the pioneers traveling through here to greater destinations out west, many perishing along the way. The place is rich in history, but I wonder how many stop and check it out as they fly by in their cars to some other place. I was in Scottsbluff Friday, March 12, but not to see the sights. And it was a beautiful and warm day in spite of the forecast for up to 40 inches of snow that weekend. But I wasn't just enjoying the weather.
I was there to get a new vehicle. (Yes, I've gone through a lot of vehicles lately, but my life is unstable in many ways.) There is a reason why my last four vehicles I decided to sell myself. (Selling my vehicle this time seemed like a hassle I didn't need, so I went the quick route and did a KBB instant cash sale.) Dealing with the salespeople in my neck of the woods is tedious at best. They wouldn't give me what I wanted on trade-in, so I went farther away. Yes, it's a long drive from where I live to Scottsbluff, but we are talking thousands of dollars saved, so *high five*. Why did I trade in my old vehicle, which I've had since only October? See, our current president is doing everything in his power to destroy this country, even cutting off an oil pipeline from a friendly neighbor and stopping oil and gas extraction from public land, which caused fuel prices to skyrocket almost overnight. (He also destroyed about 200,000 jobs. And quickly undid just about everything good and right his predecessor did.) So, I need a vehicle that gets better gas mileage. How much better? How about twice the mpg? That's what I was doing in Scottsbluff. Yeah, not very interesting. But there is more.
This town is also home to some strong personal memories. I was extremely hesitant to visit because this is the town where I twice met the girl I loved (yes, in the flesh), once to cement our budding relationship and the second when she ended it. (I recall driving the whole way the second trip with a dry mouth because I knew she was going to do it.) I think less than two months went by in between those dates. I had mixed feelings about visiting. I didn't want any of those feelings to resurface because the end result was I didn't get the girl, so whether the memories were good or bad, it doesn't matter now. Holding her was like holding water in my hand; eventually, she slipped through my fingers. And so all my stories of her must end sadly.
After I saw her in February, I figured it would be the last time. It seemed so final. True to form, she reiterated the same lines I heard before. I tried to stay in touch with her as long as possible because I knew this was it. This was the last I would have of her and I wanted to be left with some warm memories. We both exhausted ourselves, me in the chase and she running from me. She was officially gone from my life. I had to accept it. Our conversation petered out as always with me trying and failing to hold onto that water. She is a force of nature. It is not possible for me to tame her, just as one cannot tame the wind. She's out of reach, just as the evening stars turn to morning stars which fade with the rising sun. The only thing one can do is seek to understand her. I'm not sure I'll ever get there. So, you can see why it was problematic for me to come this far for a car and wake certain memories. If you've read here any length of time, you know I had to do it, though, because that's what this blog is all about — retracing my steps and seeing what went wrong. But too much went wrong to gather it all up and make sense. As with shattered glass, picking through the pieces can be more hurtful than simply cleaning it up and walking away. What's broken is broken. What's done is done. Life goes on, and so must I.
My time in Scottsbluff reinforced how powerful memories are for me and how they color everything around me. The memories of my childhood and my divorce, for example, have made living where I live unlivable. And passing through some places does the same thing to me. It's the reason why I don't ever want to go back to McCook. It's nothing but ghosts anyway. But it also means I need to move far away and make new memories. Leave the past behind. I'm disgusted with how I behaved at times during my divorce and separation. I'm really dumbfounded by my actions. I was just really stupid. That person went off the rails. Just as my recent unwillingness to let go of communicating with her, I couldn't let go then, either. And then I held onto my pain because it was the last I had of her. I experienced some serious lapses in judgment for quite some time. God punished me. The only thing I can do now is learn and return to the work in front of me, which is doing the best I can to follow God.
I sat and ate my food (Chinese this time) in the park where I remember we watched a family reunion of sorts. She volunteered to take their photo, as I thought she would. Right across the street was the school track where she pressed herself into me and kissed me. I drove past familiar restaurants and remember what we ate. The Super 8 where I stayed. I recalled the inspirational quotes on the walls of the hotel rooms. Maybe they still had something to say to me. I recalled her breaking things off with me as I sat on the hotel bed, crying. I had not even exited a heartbreak of a marriage, and I had yet another heartbreak to attend to. It was a new cutting unkindness on top of a purifying sore of an unkindness. And I know we didn't do the right thing and she was right to break it off, but my mother always told me two wrongs don't make a right (probably because I was always trying to enact revenge on my bully brothers). Even though I understood why she did it, she still betrayed me deeply. I thought I was going to finally have something wonderful in my life, and it was snatched away from me. Talk about unfair. Sigh. I smelled the Western Sugar sugar factory. Walked around a bit. Drove around. When I was there the two previous times, I felt for her so strongly. This time, something was missing. It was her. I just miss her. I always will, I guess, until I see her on the other side of Jordan. This was the last time I saw her and she was in love with me. My friends, she doesn't want anything to do with me now, and that is still a very hard thought. I think God arranged this situation so I had to make peace with it. And so I did the very best I could. And then left one last time. Goodbye, memories of the girl I loved. And goodbye, girl I loved. I didn't take anything with me this time when I left. Well, just a car. And some leftover Chinese food.
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| It wasn't just a trip down memory lane. I also bought a car: 2 years old, 25,000 miles, 40 hwy. mpg. And met Jimmy, one of the nicest car salesmen ever. |
You don't understand how I normally go about getting over someone. Everything I wrote here is the exception to the rule. Normally, I erase someone once they are gone from my life. I mean gone. Nothing left. Buh bye. Letters? Gone. Gifts? Gone. Memories? Erased. Mementos? Meh. A literal scorched-earth policy. I didn't do that with her. Maybe that's what I did wrong. Or maybe it was because I thought we would make it. I really thought that. My point is, instead of doing what I normally would do, I memorialized that girl. That alone should tell everyone how I truly feel about her.
I don't know why I wasn't enough for her. I presented a very good offer. I would have loved her the very best I could. I don't know how she walked away from that. If she has any advice about how to do that, I'm all ears. How do I unlove her? How is that even possible? Once upon a time, I thought I knew how a woman wanted to be loved. I would have done all of that for her. I would have been the best version of myself. Would have loved her forever with everything I had until my dying breath. But that's not what she wanted. It reaffirms what I thought all along, going back as far as I can remember: girls like that aren't allowed to be with guys like me. She's just out of reach. That is the sad truth. This isn't a movie. Guys like us do not get the girl. But, perhaps only for a moment, we can fool ourselves and say we got the girl. Well, I did. Even if it was only for two months. Take that, suckers.
It is clear the only thing that could possibly get me to move on is another woman. (Didn't I already try that? How did that go, Joshua?) But that isn't up to me. Still, I checked and Elizabeth Turner isn't available. Or remotely interested. Or even aware of my existence. But that is nothing new for me. Haha.
As time passes and her children leave home and she finds herself perhaps increasingly alone, I hope she doesn't wonder why she said goodbye to the Joshua who tried so hard. I hope she remembers she made the right decision and all worked out okay. I'll try to remember the same about her. Wish me luck.
Thank you for reading. God bless.
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