Stay away from heaven

Oh yes, another thing. Specifically, about females. A joke I frequently make in half-seriousness, half-jest is that I've had so many failures and no victories, I might get to a point where I care so much that I cease to care. In other words, a way for me to cover two bases at the same time.

I do care.

I've been at war for 22 years and returned home with nothing more than a sack of used condoms and shoestring (don't ask). No love letters. No mementos or keepsakes. Nothing to show for my efforts. Just a series of yarns for me to spin when I have nothing else to talk about. There is not one instance in my life where I can look back, shrug, and smile wistfully, "it was worth it."

For those of you making something with someone, I say hold onto that. For one day, just set aside all the bullshit power plays and contrivances that get in the way of a relationship, look your partner in the eyes, and exude appreciation and affection towards them in the best way you know how. The reward to a relationship is the solution unto itself. It makes me sad how so many people squander this feeling. It's so fucking simple, and yet when I talk about myself, I blame everyone else and I beat myself up over it. It scares me how little control I have over the things I want for myself emotionally. This is why I rip up telephone numbers and flake on others; I've already given up. There's no need for me to contribute to a series of "bad-break" stories. I don't need to become another statistic. But at the same time, I care. But I don't. But seriously, I do.

By the time I do get what I'm looking for, either my insecurities will cause it tumble down, or she'll eventually become tired of me, at which point I will go insane and breakdown into a mess of incoherent babbling and tears. It's to be expected. I've already lost. I've already fucking lost. There will always be this emptiness. I know what this emptiness is now. It's everything and nothing rolled into an undecipherable cacophony brewing in the heart. It's so painful yet painless, it's almost sickening. I hate this shit. I hate it. I fucking hate it. I absolutely fucking hate it. I absolutely, absolutely fucking hate, hate, hate, hate this so much.

All things move towards death. This is a fact. But if the journey you make with someone is worthwhile, you transcend death, both literally and figuratively, with something much more profound than either one of you could ever hope for in a million years.

Fuck you. Do not presume to know how I feel.