Day 7

My ex decides to throw in her two cents on the blog here. I am now a "bullshit artist." That is rich.

She has turned out like all the others in my life. There's not much I can add to that.

I made a mistake getting involved with her. This was my fault. I don't blame anyone for that except me. I just need to learn from it and not let it happen again. As sobriety returns to my thinking, I know that my rational judgments about her were correct no matter what my feelings for her were.

Love is bullshit. It doesn't make you happy, It doesn't make you better. It doesn't even make you feel better.

I have been very confessional for the past seven days. I have put it all out there warts and all. I have not tried to trash her, and I have not tried to paint flowers on my ass either. But as a recent poster here put it, I got what I deserved for not knowing what the hell I want. That stings, but it is true. I spent two years neither committing to a deeper relationship nor walking away. I should have walked away the moment I met her. I should not have become involved with her. This was my doing.

I don't want to be married. This is because I don't know anyone who is married and happy. I congratulate myself for not making that mistake. Sometimes, I wonder if I might regret being this way. But seeing other men and their misery in matrimony gives me my answer. I am reminded of this joke:

Q: Why is divorce expensive?

A: Because it is worth it.

You don't get anymore than cynical than that.

It is time to end this series. The wound has scabbed over and picking at it makes no sense. It is done. She is gone. Whatever I imagined I would have with her was just imagination. The reality is that we would have been destitute and screaming at each other until we divorced.

As for future relationships, there won't be any. The modus operandi is "hit it and quit it." I am going to let pessimism and cynicism have the wheel from now on. They drive things way better than optimism. Optimism heads straight for the ditch.

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