Ode to Narcissism

zoya:

few things are as delicious as a sugared lemon

 So, so true.

Well...

I received a call from a number I didn’t recognize just now.  I hoped it would be you.  It wasn’t.

I can’t feel this for you.  I just can’t. 

It’s going to end very badly for me - I can already see it.

But I want you, anyway.

And that is the crux.

More fodder for the fire.

fuck fuck fuck fuck

I feel so god damned lost right now.  So in over my head, I can’t even laugh at myself about it.  

Why do we want the things we want?  And what happens after we get those things?  Is the chase the only real thrill?  Do we only want what’s difficult or impossible to get?

I don’t know why I’m saying “we”.  It’s just me - fucking shit up per usual.

I’m trying to take comfort in the fact that my conscience is bothered a little.  I feel guilty.  I’m sure I’d be a worse person if it weren’t so.  But what I want is very fucking bad and will hurt a lot of people.  Including me, in the end, probably.  But I still want it.  So badly I can barely focus on anything else.  And even now, as I’m writing this, I know exactly what I’m going to try to do.  And it’s wrong.  So very, very wrong.  But I want it.  And I’m selfish.  And I’m going to do it anyway, if I can.  Damn the consequences - and the casualties.

I’m off to feed myself to the wolves again. 

Feel free to laugh when this all blows up in my face.  Trust me, I’ll deserve it.

Thank you...

for saying I’m the “bee’s knees”.  Sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.

And you’re right, we could’ve had one hell of a perfect something.

Your wife is a lucky woman.

I'm sorry.

Right now, I am in a weird place.  I feel as if there are two sides of myself in combat.

The first (and we’ll call her Side A) wants to be in a relationship.  She wants the marriage, the house, the kids, et al.  She wants to believe that this is the right path, because it is natural, and not necessarily because it is what they tell you is right.  She wants this so bad that she is having to restrain herself from crawling back to her ex on hands and knees just to be able to say, “I finally made it work!  What a success I am!”

And then there’s the second (and we’ll call her, you guessed it, Side B).  She wants none of this archaic, preconceived bullshit.  None of it at all.  Marriage is a way to remain firmly under thumb, and she doesn’t much feel like feeding herself to the wolves.  She wasn’t happy with the ex, and is tired of being mistreated by men.  She doesn’t want to end up like her mother, firmly under her father’s boot-heel.  No, thank you.

My old ex best friend (I always use this phrase because it makes me think of the similar line in that Jim Croce song, “Operator”) once told me, “Nothing can ever be in the middle with you.  It’s always black or white, and that is not reality.”  She was right.  But a lot of good that does me.  I have no idea how to fix this monumental character flaw.

This guy I had a (very short-lived) thing with has this saying (which I am certain he plagiarized from somewhere, as he is really not as bright as he would have everyone believe he is).  It goes like this:  “I believe I have a character profoundly antagonistic to ordinary domestic life.”  I think it applies to me.  I think that no matter how right things are, how perfect, how in love the other person is with me, I will find a way to fuck it up.  And I think it’s because I am afraid of being domesticated.  I am fucking terrified of what it would entail, and who I would become, and how much I would loathe myself for not ever being more.

At the same time, I am also terrified that I just threw away something lasting.  I have not let this thought develop fully, because if I do let it fester and grow, I’m afraid I will lose my mind a little, and go chasing after him.  And I don’t think that is what I should do. 

He deserves better, and so do I.

I do love you, though.  And I’m sorry.  I wish I could be better for you.  I’m just not.

Not him again...

On my way back from lunch with the officefriends today, I saw this guy that I occasionally reconnect with from time to time.  I pretended not to see him.  I don’t think he saw me.  Or maybe he was pretending, too.

We met in high school.  After that one musician broke my heart, this guy helped me to move on and get over that, in his own way.  We dated for a bit, then things ended kind of badly.  I met my recent ex, and that sort of ended our “friendship” or “pseudo-relationship” or whatever it warrants being called.  Anyway, we met up again a few months ago and went out a few times (during the trial separation, but prior to this most recent breakup).  Again, we managed to end things on a bad note.

He is the only guy I have dated that I still talk to (with the exception of my current ex, and who knows what is going on there).  This guy really knows how to get under my skin.  I think he enjoys doing so.  No, I know he does.

It would be romantic, if it weren’t so fucking sordid.  I don’t love him.  I certainly don’t want to be with him.  He has been dating the same girl since  high school.  He cheats on her constantly, and they are constantly doing the break-up/make-up song-and-dance, which annoys me.  If we ever were to give it an honest try, I think we would kill each other.

We’ve influenced each other in a lot of good ways, though.  He taught me about Che and communism.  I taught him about the Doors and feminism.  But we poison each other.  We are not good together.  I don’t know why I still let him in.  In my defense, I let him in and then I kick him right out, but still… I let him in, and that is no good.

When I met my most recent ex, this guy would call me, drunk, at three in the morning and tell me that he was happy that I found someone, but at the same time, he wanted to kill him.  This is what prompted me to stop talking to him then.

I think he contacts me and coerces me into seeing him so that he can hurt me.  That is his revenge.

I don’t know where I’m going with this.  Best to end it now.

I will think on it more, and come back with something more profound later.  Hopefully. 

Dear K...

I bought the most recent cd from your favorite band today, and it made me think of you.  And of everything we could’ve had, but won’t.

I still miss you.  

And, as previously stated, she’s lovely.  But she’s not me.  And that still stings a little.

Thank you for the text message today.