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By Abogada Submitted by Abogadalbny Date: 2006 Sep 21 Comment on this Work [[2006.09.21.14.59.21400]] |
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I'm not crazy about how it goes sometimes. You put your heart out there, just to find that the object of your affection has little affection to give anyone, let alone you--let alone me. The former object of my affection said perhaps the only truism I've heard from a man in years, "You need a sweet guy, honey, and I'm not a sweet guy." The worst thing about being older and single is the wisdom to know that all he was saying was that he just didn't want me. The thing I really hate about guys who dance around the truth is that it hurts more. He had to keep coming back, over and over, to tell me--over and over in long, ridiculous sentences--how he "needed to be alone on his journey," and other various and sundry crap. Good lord, gut me quick! Instead, he dangled me like a piñata, and took too many hits at my heart. All so he could tell himself what a nice guy he was. I was glad I didn't let him leave nicely. I was glad I cried and glad I called him a "heartless little bastard" (skillfully playing on his short man's syndrome), and slammed the door in his face when he turned to say something back. He didn't love me and he should feel bad about it, damn it! I wish I could say it made me feel better, but you know that stuff never does. Dr. Phil says, "You can't just go out shopping for a mate." Everyone says I should quit looking, "it'll happen when I least expect it." I hate that advice. What the hell does that mean, anyway? I have a theory, based on my past experience in relationships, that most people who are happy in love (as I once was) happened upon it by chance. Like that guy who just won the Georgia lottery, looking all bewildered as he accepted his check. You don't see him up there giving sage advice like, "Just quit playing the lottery--just quit looking-- and it'll happen for you, too--when you least expect it!" Bullshit. Nobody knows what they are talking about when it comes to love because it's sort of like hitting the lottery, anyway. One day you're rolling around naked in hundred dollar bills. The next day it's all gone, and you wonder how the hell it all happened, and how you are ever supposed to get it back again. I still believe in real love, and I know I have much love to give. I still believe that we are not meant to yearn for that which we are not meant to have. It's the yearning, I am sure, that draws it near. I don't know how to quit playing the lottery--how to quit yearning for that great love. As much as it hurts every time I lose, I hope I never decide to quit taking my chances. |