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How Can I Stop Pining?

Sun, Jun 10, 2001 01:48PM -0600

I have not written, dared not write, waiting for the cup to fill. But strange events seem to have jogged my hand constantly, and drops of inspiration have been spilled, wasted, evaporating into nothingness. Things are not moving in a way that makes me comfortable. If anything, things have not really been moving. I feel like I'm in some alternate world, some VR game, where I can move, talk, and experience things, but in the end, I will return to the real world with nothing but fictitious memories. Nothing will have changed, I'm not sure I can learn anything that will help me change, and I'm not even really convinced about what direction I want to change in. All I'm certain is that I've been in one place for too long, and that makes me antsy, to tell the truth. To be stationary when everything else is moving. In the wild, this is the surest way to attract Death.

But, yeah, this whole relationship thing (or, more precisely, the express lack thereof) has really been occupying center stage as of late. Maybe it's this whole marriage thing that seems to be sprouting up all around me. Maybe it's the fact that I spend an inordinate amount of time with women who are in relationships (not to mention the fact that I often pine for these women in a pathetic, Don Quixotic, "pure and chaste from afar" sort of way.) Maybe it's the fact that I have yet to really ask a girl out on a date, which is a realization that is simultaneously painful and humorous, considering that I have, mirabile dictu, actually been in a relatively long term relationship.

As far as biology is concerned (in so far as I have interpreted what I have learned), there are really only three roles for a genetically non-related male with regards to females--either a guy is relationship material, or he's someone you'd want to have a fling with, or he's just disgusting. With the (perhaps overly) optimistic hope that I don't fall in the third category, I realize that I could never fall in the second category, which is unfortunate, because with the limited timeframe I'm working with, and the general state of flux my life is in, I can therefore only realistically expect another six years of complete and utter hopelessness.

It is with a certain sense of resignation that I have taken to studying the teachings of Buddha.

In the final analysis, I am simply just tired of contemplating my single state. What I really want to do is get to the point where I just don't give a fuck. I am clearly not there yet, and it really doesn't seem like I can chart a plausible course to said destination.

Well, I figure it's taken my six years to wake up from my long and drawn out episode of depression--it's no joke that I feel like I have just waken from a dream--have you ever had those formless dreams where you really can't remember anything except a vague sense of sorrow and disquiet? So maybe it will be another six years until the sun starts shining over my head, and I can actually bask in it's warm glow, no longer fearing the night.

So I suppose I must learn how to be patient. In the end, everything is just a matter of time, I suppose.

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