what enough means to me i graduated enough love to completely change the experience of casual sex forever. i left my friend and my friend and my friend and my friend and my friend...ad infinitum and i said hello again and again and again and again...ad infinitum i came back to just one you can't ignore something like that. you can't ignore falling out of love either. it was horrific. i always believed my greatest fear to be outliving someone i love. i think what i was really afraid of was outliving the love itself. so that happened and it was horrific. aaand...i dont know you tend to find humanity fickle afterwards tend to reevaluate who you are and how silly the guarantees you took for granted seem now you wonder how you functioned with such naivety, you wonder how anyone functions so unaware of what now seems to be common sense, the endless facts and figures of a probable reality--because that's the part that hurts isn't it--the probability, not knowing, knowing only that you'll never know for sure 'blissfully' is the hollow reply the cynic in your head gives you, 'that's how they function darling and that's how you never will again' isn't that guy just charming? he makes me want to get up in the morning and smile! *kneeing cynic in the balls* so in a sunflower seed shell, you start to see this callow and violent disregard for self protection as an invisible ironic coat of armor and you get jealous and you get bitter and you realize the love of your life was this short haired girl that made it a living hell for a good four years until you just stopped loving her you loved, you were complete and it stopped-- for no tangible reason 'you love until you don't' the awful thing is time stands still and you aren't drowning in someone else's eyes you're in your bedroom, in the dark, with yourself. maybe that's the difference between alone and lonely, being alone in your bedroom in the middle of the night thinking of everything or being lonely in your bedroom in the middle of the night with nothing to think of but yourself and wanting desperately to think of anything or anyone else being split into two versions of yourself and despising each one is lonely being one and okay with it is alone so one is NOT the most lonely number it is in fact two i'm putting things back together. that's why you shouldn't sleep around or steal or club baby seals to death-- not because of an ambiguous fear of transgressing some easily argued rules--because because who you are is what makes you feel alive i dont know-- i just doubt there are people who truly find lasting inner content from bed after bed and theft after theft and watching baby animals in pain-- i think they do those things because they feel bad, or sad and they want to make it better and im learning that the only thing that makes it better is being who you were when it was better stop believing in the irrevocable stop needing excuses to feel one way or the other, and another person, another situation IS an excuse i'm getting up from beneath the fig tree because i can live any life that i can wonder of and i'd rather wonder than worry about choices that won't exert any more control over something that isn't mine-- the life i share with the people around me is unpredictable and short my mind is mine and forever, and that's enough |