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Moving Out and Moving On
Topic Started: Mar 1 2010, 09:12 PM (116 Views)
Justin
Mr. International
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My bedroom is filled with photos, newspaper articles, and trophies from my playing days at Kalamazoo High School. I will admit that I am someone who likes to boast about my accomplishments. I mean who wouldn’t with all of the things I achieved in my day? I was a four time All-State player in football with my last two years being the Player of the Year for the entire state of Michigan. I broke every school record there was and even broke some state records. I had major scholarship offers to schools to play quarterback and I just knew that I was going make a name for myself nationally. So yeah I accomplished a lot and loved to tell about it. Especially to those who envied me.

One obstacle stood in my way to play college football and that was my then girlfriend at the time, Jessica. I wouldn’t even call her my girlfriend because I was always cheating on her with her friends, but it doesn’t matter because she still got in the way of my dreams. If you were to ask her she would say that it was both of our faults, but I feel like she trapped me. It was the usual Friday night party after the game at Big Joe’s house. But that night was different…Jessica wanted me to drink more than I usually did. She kept urging me on to chug this and take a shot of that. I was young, dumb, and thought I was immortal so I went along.

Nine months later, at the age of 19, I became a new father of a baby girl named Nicole. I was there at the hospital for the birth, but other than that I haven’t seen much of her and she is now six years old, wait…….she is seven years old. I will readily admit my guilt of holding a grudge with Jessica. Like I said before I felt like the woman trapped me and my resentment for her has kept me away from my daughter. I know that I need to be apart of my daughter’s life and I will as soon as I can find a way to stop holding a grudge with her mother. Yes, I will fix that situation very soon.

I was standing in this very spot in my room a few days ago when I noticed that all of the photos, articles, and trophies were accomplishments from when I was in high school. I am twenty-six now and have nothing to show what I have done for the last eight years of my life. I have done nothing but work dead end jobs in bars and restaurants while trying to chase beautiful women with my heroics in my high school days. I have found out that what I did in high school doesn’t mean shit once you finish high school. Women want to know what you are doing now and how deep your pockets are. So as I was standing in this same spot two days ago looking around my room at my glory days I decided it was time for me to move on with my life.

In an effort to move on with my life I decided to venture in the wrestling business. I figure that I am a gifted athlete and in the beginning I can use my athleticism to compete all the while I learn the ropes of wrestling with each match. Wrestling can’t really be that hard can it? I guess I will soon find out. With the help of my younger brother I ‘Googled’ wrestling promotions and when I saw Sanctioned Violence Organization I could have sworn I heard the words talking to me. I was immediately indulged and the more my brother and I looked the more I was hooked. Yes…Sanction Violence Organization is my way to move on.

“Well what in the monkey’s ass are you doing boy?”

The question from my mother as she enters my room breaks up my personal reflection trance I was in. Twenty-six years old and still living in my mother’s house….it is definitely time to move on.

“Just doing some thinking mother.”

I can tell she doesn’t give a shit because she slams a box into my chest. I start taking my clothes out of my dresser and throwing them in the box, but apparently that’s not good enough for my mom.

“Boy what are you doing?! Don’t just throw them clothes in there! You need to fold them neatly and place them in the box. You will be able to fit more in the box that way.”

My mom has been like this from day one so I don’t know why it has taken me so long to actually move out….well wait I do know…..I got to live here for free without having to pay anything. Now I have to start paying everything on my own.

“Where is it that you are moving to again?”

“Las Vegas.”

“Where in the crap is that?”

I don’t know what it is with my mom, but she does this all the time. She asks me the same questions, I give her the same answers and she wants to know where it is, who it is, or what it is. I can’t take it anymore and I am glad that today is my last day.

“It is in Nevada mother.”

“That is a long way away. Make sure you come visit me.”

Come visit her? This lady is crazy! I am trying to put Kalamazoo so far in the back of my mind that I forget how to get back. I have accomplished absolutely nothing in this town since I graduated high school and there is nothing else for me here. Las Vegas is the perfect spot for me to help me forget about this wretched place. Yes…it is time for me to move on.

“Of course I will come and visit.”

I love my mother, but coming back to visit Kalamazoo is not on my list of things to do. Don’t get me wrong, I will stay in touch with her via telephone, but I am not coming back to this place. I have lived like a bum long enough.

I’m not taking much with me so I am finished packing within an hour. I tape up the three boxes that I have and put shipping labels on them. I take one last look around the room and a lump forms in my throat. I want to get away from all this, but it still hurts to leave. I walk out of the room for the last time and join my mom at the kitchen table where she chopping up some carrots. I sit at the table waiting for dinner to finish cooking. The aroma of pot roast infiltrates my nostrils causing a grumbling in my stomach. Cooking my own food is something I will have to get used to real quick, but it’s a challenge I am up for.

It’s time to move out and move on.

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