6/21/24

So there have been a few new developments. I haven’t been able to start running or lifting weights since I got stabbed which sucks. I really need every outlet I can get right now with all the nasty bullshit I have in my life.

Work’s been particularly tough. Seems like I can never catch a break. I’m doing another person’s job now. He retired and I took over all his stuff. My boss and my program manager have me on a tight leash. They know about the separation and the four kids and everything but they need results regardless. What they don’t know about is the Mary Jane ordeal and the strain that’s put me through over the past six months. I wish I could just forget she existed. I just can’t seem to get over this one and I’m starting to think I never will.

I went on that date with Michelle last night. It went really well. We got crab cakes, talked, played pool at a famous Baltimore nightclub. Then we hugged and she left. I guess I’m old fashioned. Hugging seemed right this time for some reason. I wasn’t ready to kiss her yet and I don’t think she was ready to kiss me either. She’s a divorced mom. Perfect for me I guess.

But last night I had a dream about Mary Jane which just about fucked up the whole experience for me. I haven’t talked to her in six months and she’s still having that much of an effect on my life. I can’t wait until next week when I can start up the superhero stuff again. I have so much angst and anger to take out on some unsuspecting criminal gangster punks. I want to crack some skulls, smash some faces in. Yeah, Anakin Skywalker’s got nothin’ on me. I’m a real life Incredible Hulk.

So I got my armor suit in the mail this morning. It’s black and badass looking. And it’s supposed to be resistant to bullets and stab wounds. Cool beans. I had an interesting conversation with Amy when I picked it up. Good old Amy is always good for an interesting conversation.

“What’s your super hero name gonna be?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“You know. If you’re a superhero, you need a name.”

I chuckled. “I’m not really a superhero. I’m just an asshole who likes kicking peoples’ asses.”

“Well you still need a name.”

“Mike.” I grinned.

“Ha ha,” she said in her most sarcastic voice. Which in her case is about as sarcastic as you can get.

“What? It’s my name.”

“Whatever. Well don’t go getting yourself killed. I still need you to carry my groceries up the steps for me. And imagine what your kids’ lives would be like if all they had was their mom.”

“It’s the one reason I don’t off myself and get it over with.”

“I know. You’ve told me many times.”

I smiled. “Oh I actually went on a date last night. My first date since that shit went down with Mary Jane.”

“Careful,” she said. “Don’t forget our deal.”

“Oh right,” I said. “I won’t mention her name again.”

“How was the date?”

“It went well. Good food, good company, good times.” I frowned. “We just hugged at the end though.”

“Why is that bad? You don’t have to fuck every woman you go out with on the first date. Maybe that will happen. Or maybe you just made a new friend. You had fun. That’s what matters, right?”

“I guess. I have enough friends. I don’t need friends right now.” What I really wanted was someone to get me over the hump with Mary Jane. I was sick and tired of being lovesick over her.

Amy frowned. “Somebody could hand you a million dollars and you’d find something wrong with it.”

I smiled. “I mean nobody’s just gonna hand you money and not expect something in return. With that sort of money there’d be some insanely thick strings attached.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

I started walking down the steps with the box of body armor, which wasn’t as heavy as I’d thought it would be.

“Well I’ll see you later,” she said. “Tomorrow I guess.”

I turned and smiled. “How about the Masked Fucker.”

She shook her head. “That’s a description of what you are, not a name.”

When I got home, I found some red duct tape and put a cross on the chest plate with it. Good a symbol as any. The red looked really good on the black armor. And as for the cross, I’m a Sunday School teacher after all. And I’d like to think God has played a part in all the times I could have died but didn’t. And boy, you only know the half of it. I’ve been dancing with death my whole life. I can’t figure out why God’s been keeping me alive all this time but there must be some reason.