I am, restless, full of thoughts and life and love and laughter and anger and hurt and upset and ready to go boom!
People think I am fooling myself, that I am not being realistic, or I am playing around. Love is all that there is, and all that there ever will be. No matter how convoluted and twisted.
The love that lovers share? The love that settled people grow when they are together and work at things? I have backburnered that. I have been on a steady quest to kill that.
Why?
Let's see, it's not that I don't believe there are no men out there worthy of it, that there are no men that will never fit the requirements in my head. It's just that, things get fucked up. The best made plans, the best made love, the best intentions, it's all subject to fuckery.
A subject that I am becoming quite the expert on, in fact. To say I don't love or have some deep attachment to him would be a lie. To say that I would run out and marry him in a heartbeat would be some crazy you on coke shit. I have visions of grandeur and romance, but that's what they are, fantasies that I've never ever held on to believe they'll come true.
I've made plans, I've loved hard and I've set out to do so much, but the best laid plans get screwed, we all get screwed, something in life always pops up. And that's what we have to inevitably look out for.
