Come Down Now

...they'll say... but everything looks perfect from far away. Come Down Now.

I saw two ex-GFs at the gym today. One hugged me goodbye and the other smiled and called me sweet. Both were accompanied by a "good to see you".

It was good to see them. One of them was crazy L. and I have to admit that I've missed her. Because I'm crazy, that's why. Because the sex was great and everything looked perfect from far away and maybe, just maybe, there's a little something left over after that much drama and an abortion to boot.

Imagine that.

--

Went to Jupiter tonight. I miss Sam too. Crazy again.

--

I'm living alone again, and it's... lonesome. I feel the urge to dump the girl who is just starting to care about me in favor of better sex and sheets dirty with the smell of women I don't know.

I feel the urge to fill something empty that she cannot fill. Or, perhaps, to just try.

I feel stupid for wanting that, foolish for not loving her, wondering how much I'll miss her when she's gone.

And I simultaneously feel like a better man for realizing this, for wanting to push her away to somehow hurt her less.

A little part of me wants to just maintain it and cheat. A little part of me wants to become all that which I despise and hate.

A little part of me has become that which hurt me so.

But I won't. The lack of "official" commitment notwithstanding, she cares more than any of them, and I'm healthy (!) enough to have offered real hope, not the chaos that every girl has received for years. The chaos of seeking fairy tales just to crush them, to prove them wrong.

Eh. It was never that bad. It sure was painful when the storm ended and all that remained was the memory of how good I had imagined it was. And how stupid I turned out to be.

Pick your "L". It was true of all of them in some form or another. Well... the ones I've cried over, anyway.

--

I miss AZ. I don't know what I miss, really... the youth, certainly, both that which surrounded me and my own renaissance. The energy. The sense that everything worth doing was ahead rather than behind. The unity that is the belief that everything as far as the eye can see is just like you -- even if it was always a little bit of a lie.

I miss the reduction in responsibility. This small biz thing is really draining. The firm is doing more than I could ever do single-handedly, but, my god, is it a tether.

And so I miss...

Maybe I just miss being someplace new and unfamiliar.

Funny... I just moved. I haven't even finished unpacking. LOL.

--

Bleah. I'm tired. I'm not depressed or even remarkably thoughtful. I am, perhaps, experiencing a worrying reluctance over breaking up with K.

I'm probably making a mistake. She's probably as perfectly compatible as I could ever hope for.

But, maybe, at last, I'm comfortable enough with being alone (or just single) that I don't need her. Maybe that means I want more than just acceptance within a nurturing environment.

Maybe I need more than I should have received as a toddler, now. Heh.

Maybe wanting really great sex with a girl I'm proud to show off that also happens to be loyal, nurturing, thoughtful, and considerate is possible?

Sigh. Well. I guess I'm making the decision to hold out for that.

--

A little part of me thinks this foolish.

Good sex with hot chicks seems readily available. The loyalty and genuine care seems really hard. Is it worth giving up that experience for someone that really cares about me?

The "growing old" cliche comes to mind. The one about "she won't always be hot, so look for inner beauty."

Of course, the cynic in me is whispering right now, "the guy who made that up was really ugly".

LOL.

And, perhaps, he used that cliche as an excuse to settle.

Let me see... date a girl near my age who is "cute enough" with whom I'd prefer watching porn over her most of the time, who treats me very well and is emotionally available,

OR, date another thirty 23 year olds, have great sex, and maybe get lucky on the emo tip?

--

Oh, how times have changed. It wasn't so very long ago I'd have dated the Swamp Thing if only it loved me and cooked breakfast once in awhile.

Maybe. The not-so-hot chicks I've dated before were always pretty darn good in bed. Harumph.

The sweet ones don't seem to be.

(does an internal survey)

Yeah, great sex requires a little chaos. The more fucked in the head, the better the lovin'.

Sigh. Maybe I'm doomed to be a playboy.

This would be a lot easier if I could cheat... like all of my friends.

And most of the girls I've loved.