The Curse of Love

I'm unlucky in love. 

At first, I thought it was just a coincidence but now I know for sure that sometimes... you're just unlucky. Some are not cut for the whole dating scene and maintaining relationships. It's not like I wanted to be so cursed but it seems that the older I get, the further I am to dreams I once held as a young, hopeful teen. 

People say to just "stay positive" because "one day someone will come along." But man, I'm 35 now. Someone told me the same thing when I was 18.... then again at 20.... then 26..... 30..... 32...  you get the picture. There is only so many times you can say "one day" after your numbers keep building up. What if the one day was years ago and I missed the opportunity? Boats sailed. That whole shtick. 

And it's not like I don't attract people. I get asked for dates all the time. I see people staring. I know I turn heads because I see them nearly snap as soon as I walk past. I can easily be lusted after, no big deal. I don't want just that. I'm definitely not a damn prude, either. A little lust is fine but if that is all there is? No, thank you. The real issue I have is people not calling back or ghosting me after the first date. The longest relationship was 8+ years ago and that was full of domestic harm. I'm a DV and SA survivor. Dates after him have been laughable or just a waste of time. It's a cruel world out here for hopeless romantics like us. 

I was talking to a friend a while back. We dated briefly in the '08, ended nicely, lost contact for a few years only to find each other again. So, naturally, we wanted to rekindle that old spark. 17+ years of friendship, on and off. 17+ years! That's like a nearly grown child. 17+ years!! He was different, felt like home. He told me he felt the same. The curse kicked in as soon as I confessed and opened up to him about some personal things. Things that I thought he already knew, but I wanted to clarify. After that long, I just thought I was reminding him of who and what I was. It wouldn't have been a shocker had he took the time to KNOW me. Really know me. 17+ years, you think he would have caught the memo but I guess, he was staring at my chest too long to ever care. 

I remember the last thing he told me, it haunts me to this very day. He said; "why should I climb the tree when I don't even like some of it's fruits?" Meaning; why waste his time on me when he doesn't accept me entirely. That hurt. Real bad. It shattered something inside me. Made me realize that people are the same. Years mean nothing. If someone who I assumed knew me, loved me, accepted me... could break my heart without remorse... what would make a stranger any different? 

The sad thing is that I'm not even upset about it. I'm just finding peace with the knowledge nowadays. I don't even try anymore. I don't reach out. I don't do anything because why bother? I've been saying that a lot. "Why bother?" I could get to know new people but why bother? I could let some people take me on dates but why bother? I could open up to people but why bother? I don't want to open up anymore. I don't give a fck about your pet goldfish. I don't care if you had dinner or drank your water. I don't care about you being a star player in the scouts. It's pointless banter. I'm so exhausted. Now I have to start from the beginning and retell the same old shit I did to someone new like a broken record? There's only so many ways to bring up your favorite color or hobby. "What do you dooooo?" "How's the weatherrrrr?" "What do ya like to do for funnnn?" No. Piss off. I'm so fcking irritated just thinking about it. 

But what does make me angry is that I was never like this before. I'm angry that I allowed myself to become like this. To be so heartless. So cold. I remember a time where I was so happy and hopeful. Now I'm just a bitter old hag with nothing to show for it. I guess one good thing is that I can, at the very least, finally live my dream of being the town's cryptid. Living alone in some abandoned house, shaking my fists at the children, screaming to stay off my fcking grass. Yep, all hope isn't completely lost. 

**And before you comment: No, I don't NEED love. I WANT love. Two very different things. I know my worth. I'm achieving my dreams. Is it a crime to want to love someone, as well? but quite honestly, what harm is in needing love, too? Love is a human emotion. We can pretend all we want that we are fine without it but we do need it to some extent. It's what separates the man from the machine. We don't have claws, fangs, built-in armor to defend. We are built for compassion and love, above anything else. Without love... we die. We cease to exist.

Did you know that the human heart can literally give out from heartbreak? The heartstrings are so thin, that such a traumatic thing could cause you to physically die. It's called the "broken heart syndrome." If love is so pointless, so insignificant... why does such acts of love kill us? Why do poets write about it or music circle around such topics? Why would we have history that revolved around the concept of it or paintings capturing it in acrylics? I'm sorry, but if you think love is not vital... you have only forced such a belief on yourself. So, I ask you: Who hurt you? Was it love that killed love for you, too? If so, it proves my point even moreso. Love. That's the topic.  -fin-