Reporting live from Cleveland, Ohio, this is Johnny McJohnson. None of the man’s coworkers admitted to being friends with him. Law enforcement officials at the scene declined to comment on the active investigation, but we were told off the record that there’s no evidence of foul play, and that a giant bag of Jolly Ranchers candy was found on the passenger seat, suggesting the man likely died from a choking incident like you might expect from a small child. “News at 11, a local man was found dead in his parked vehicle this afternoon. Sometimes, when you have a near-death experience with a Jolly Rancher, you remember how neat it is to be able to breathe without a delicious piece of hard candy lodged in your windpipe. I just FORGOT to actively demonstrate it in the way that would have saved everyone involved a lot of pain and suffering through the years. The same way I feel grateful for breathable air. I hope it’s clear that I felt love for my wife. I’m always in the market for a larger Shame bucket to carry around. I write about this stuff every day, so I’m much quicker to recognize when I’m doing it, and better understand how another person might feel about it. You know what the worst part might be? I used to be blind to it, legitimately. You get some hapless asshole who derpy-derps through life unintentionally hurting those he loves. We grow blind to the things we see All The Time.Ĭombine this psychological phenomenon that all of us encounter with undiagnosed adult ADHD, and boom. We grow deaf to the things we hear All The Time. We grow numb to the things we feel All The Time. I feel shitty about it, and I’d feel even worse if I didn’t know that pretty much everyone suffers from this in some form or fashion. Including the story of my own divorce.īut underneath all of the specifics is a simple and difficult truth: I didn’t remember to actively love my spouse. So many ways to frame and slice the conversation about how love dies. My Blindness to the ‘All The Time’ is Why My Marriage Ended Our health and closest loved ones seem to be the most obvious victims of our unintentional neglect. There’s always something to be deeply thankful for. We forget all of the opportunities we have to be grateful. Virtually all of us would say and do things differently if we knew this meeting would be our last. This conversation may be the last one you ever get to have with someone. We forget that we are not promised tomorrow. There’s literally NOTHING we’ve done in our lives more times than taken a breath. We breathe more than 23,000 times per day on average. There’s something appalling-nearly unforgivable-about the things we forget, like, 98-ish percent of our known existence.

Always something there to remind me