Love Sucks!

Love- an ancient something-or-other that died off with the Mayans, recreated by Hollywood and sculpted for the silver screen. Nowadays, it is nowhere to be found. So why exactly do I continue to believe that I will find it? It's stupid, nothing more than a hopeless pursuit that has gotten me nowhere but on the road to disappointment and heartache. My mother used to tell us (and will occassionally remind us), "Don't fall in love with no man. It will cause you trouble and pain." Children learn by example and by experience. I'm listening now, Ma!

King Kong is on. I love that movie. It's a classic right up there with Jaws and The Color Purple. You know, King Kong was a dumbass, a big stupid gorilla that falls in love with some chick who doesn't want him back. She shows a couple of times that she somewhat gives a damn. First time on the ship on their way to America when he's throwing a big old fit in the oil tank and in the end when he croaks. Other than that, she runs from him. But he pursues, never giving up, and in the end gets shot down. It was an impossible match anyways, but still a love story (bet you didn't know that, huh?). So instead of being just a simple dumbass big stupid gorilla, he upgrades to a dead dumbass big stupid gorilla.

Yup, that's me. I'm the dumbass and Buddha is the blonde bitch I continue to chase. Makes no sense. Maybe I'm obsessed. It's time to let go. My heart hurts. I'm tired of hurting.

You ever noticed how love songs just don't hit you right in the heart anymore? But all those heartbreaking, my-soul-is-in-pain ones do. I Miss You by Aaron Hall, It Hurts Like Hell by Aretha Franklin, So Sick by Neo,  There'll Be Sad Songs by Billy Ocean, the list goes on. I could name a million that would just target you right in the chest, direct hit, bullseye. And with every sad love song comes another to empower and reenergize you: Bitch I'm Me by Brisco, Now I'm That Bitch by Livvi, No Scrubs by TLC. There's a whole new list for you there. So really, what happened to the days of Luther Vandross, The Isley Brothers, James Ingrahm, Peabo Bryson?

If I could describe my dream relationship it would definately be Goose and Carol. Yeah, Top Gun was amongst today's entertainment. They are just the most promising and enjoyable couple, up until Goose bites it of course. But in a way that describes me too- happy one minute and the next it's gone. Things that make you go hmmm. Who sang that? Forgot.

I blocked his number, not that it would really matter cause he most likely won't call anyways. If he cares he will.but I highly doubt it. That's why love is an illusion. Your head gets clouded with hope and faith and in the end that's all you're really holding on to. Letting go is the hard part cause all you have to look forward to is a whole lotta nothing. Sometimes it's hard to decide what's worse, holding on to a lie or moving on with the truth. The story of my life, they both suck.

Buddha, Mario, whoever the fuck I'm dealing with right now, here's my problem: we have been through so much together and yet we have been through nothing together. You come, you go. I'm happy, I'm sad. It's a vicious cycle. We are both two severely damaged souls, we both are the causes of own own demise, and we both set ourselves up for failure. I'm scared taking another shot at this cause deep down I know you'll fade away and disappear. Newton's Law: for every action there's an equal and opposite reaction. I think that was Newton. Whatever. Bottom line, I can feel you. I know when you will pop up just as I can feel when you're slipping away. And it drives me insane when you leave so I react in a not so sensible manner.

If you're going to be in my life, make the effort to stay there. If you have no intention on sticking around or if you plan to hide me from your kids as you have done, then by all means just go. It hurts when I don't hear your voice, it hurts knowing I may never be with you, it hurts knowing that I may never see or speak to you again. But what's worse? This lie or admitting the truth?

I could be disillusioned, it could be the product of negative thinking, or maybe it really is true. My head is screwed up and I need time to think, or maybe I need to learn to let go. I don't have any fight left in me and I won't beg. If you are trying to protect me from your life than you, to the highest degree, underestimate me. Maybe you undervalue me? Maybe I'm the only one you feel honestly give a fuck and you need to hold onto that to keep you going. The chair perhaps? How would that look with me rolling in to meet the fam? I don't know what to think and how to feel where you're concerned.

I will send you one last text, the link to find this message. And I will unblock your number for 48 hours. If you want me, if you wanna make this work, call. A simple text will do. But if you don't or if you're not sure or not ready, then let me be, and I ask that we never speak again. I cannot endure this anymore.

Know that I will always love you but I cannot be your puppet. After five years I think I deserve the truth and not to be your dirty little secret where we go off in the night and as you call it "fuck like rabbits." I want someone to love who will love me back, and if you are incapable of that than make way for someone else. I know you have problems, I understand your trials, but love endures all. If you will not let me be there for you than I need to be without you.

I realize that this whole thing is screwy and probably unneccesary. Over a phone call, the one you said you would make tomorrow which by now was three or four days ago. And it's not so much that you didn't, it's that you haven't acknowledged it. A text saying you were tired or even a good morning one would have sufficed. But it's that bitter silence that eats through me like acid. I never needed to be the top priority in your life, but one of them would be cool. I don't have to be the first thing on your mind when you wake up, but it would be nice to be the last. The smallest of gestures usually mean the most.

I feel that I could be happy with you too. You said you don't wanna hurt me. So don't.

Sixth Rule of Fight Club: Never look back