I get a lot of grief from people for being "negative." I'm too "cynical" and "depressing." Please. . .
Most of these comments come from my candid and honest observations concerning the field of romance. Folks, I just quote the facts. 50% of all marriages end in divorce. 50 to 60% of women report cheating on their husbands. 60 to 70% of men report cheating on their wives. These figures are most likely underreported since few people are proud of being unfaithful.
The bottom line is that love is a crock of shit. If I ever doubt this, all I have to do is look at a relative going through a divorce or look at a coworker who cheats on his spouse. Love is a wasteland of shattered hopes and broken hearts. I didn't make it this way. I just report what I see.
The people who are critical of me come in two varieties. The first is usually a woman hoping to be lucky in love and sees me as someone pissing on her dreams of finding the right man. The second is a man who has just married and is happy as hell. Both dismiss me as being a cynic, but the truth always comes out.
Am I happy about all of this? Heck no. I feel bad for people especially myself. Love hurts. It is a scam and a lie. I've been burned, so it's not like I'm speaking from atop some lofty perch unscathed.
So, what's a person supposed to do? I don't know. My immediate advice is to never get married. Beyond that, I can't really add anything except to say that it is foolish to find your happiness in another person. I don't think anyone can ever deliver on such a promise as that, and it is a bit unfair to except others to make you happy. People are never satisfied.
For me, I find my happiness in my work. I confess to being a workaholic. It is what sustains me. When I lost a friend to suicide, it was work that carried me through. I learned a lesson from that time, and I have carried it with me ever since. Hollywood likes to make movies about the driven workaholic who finds that he needs people in his life especially some woman. What Hollywood doesn't tell you is how six months later that woman wonders where all the money went that came from all that workaholism. This brings us to the other sad fact I must report. The number one cause of divorce is money matters. But I digress. . .
I will not deny that I avoid intimacy in favor of work. No woman has ever made me happy, and I know that no woman ever will. But I am happy at work. I even have a little poem I wrote and like to repeat ad nauseam:
Never be afraid to bite off more than you can chew.
Happiness is always having something to do.
I always have something to do. I'm too busy to be lonely. Fuck the wasteland.
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