Ever get annoyed? Ever feel like someone needs to be told where the dog died? Or handed a crowbar and a tub of Elbow Grease to help them pry their head out of their arse? Congratulations--you've come to the right place.

And when I'm not commenting on the latest thing to piss me off, I'm trying to figure out my own twisted life. Because, hey, I'm like that.

On a gentler note: for anyone dealing with depression, anxiety, and other assorted bullshit: You are NOT alone.

And if you're looking for a laugh, search on the key word "fuckery." It's just my little thing (as the bishop said to the actress).

Thursday, November 4, 2010

After Shock

I can feel your body
When I'm lying in bed
There's too much confusion
Going around through my head
And it makes me so angry
To know that the flame still burns
Why can't I get over?
When will I ever learn?
Old love, leave me alone
Old love, go on home
I can see your face
But I know that it's not real
It's just an illusion
Caused by how I used to feel
And it makes me so angry
To know that the flame will always burn
I'll never get over
I know now that I'll never learn
- Old Love, Eric Clapton

OK, I have a really strict policy on exes: once the break-up happens, he doesn't exist. None of that "we'll be friends" bullshit. It's over, done, buh-bye.

It's easier that way for me. Once it's over, I really don't want to know the guy's still alive. It hurts too much (either that, or I want to kill the sonofawhore, and a jail term is not in my future if I can avoid it). Flings are a different story--there's no emotional attachment so I really don't care about contact. As long as it was a happy experience, I'm fine with the person staying in my life.

Boyfriends... they are a different story. Of course, it doesn't help that most of my exes have been abusive pieces of shit. Up until about 14 years ago, at least. Either that or schizoid cheating pieces of shit...

I just got an email from Brit Boy #5. Out of the blue. Completely out of the blue. Just one line, asking how I'm doing.

I shouldn't be freaked out.
I shouldn't be upset.
I am.
I'm shaking.

I'm not in a place to have my peace of mind disturbed. I'm really not. I don't want to be reminded of how I felt about him. I don't want to be reminded of the warmth of his arms, the joy of his kisses, the sweetness of our lovemaking. I don't want to remember how happy I was for that little bit of time... I don't want to remember being in love.

I have too much to do to think about lost love.

No comments:

Post a Comment