Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Foster Partner

Sounds awful, doesn't it? Yeah... pretty much. Of course, for me it's more like being the person running the partner orphanage. After all, foster parents eventually get to adopt, typically. In my case, it's more like they keep hanging out until they find the right one, then off they go... until the right one isn't right anymore, then they come back sometimes. It depends, of course, on whether or not I still have "room at the inn."

"Why can't you just accept that this is your role and be happy?"

Uhm... that's all fine and dandy... but it would be nicer to have someone running the business with me. *sigh*

I've known love. True unadulterated love. However in each case where this bliss has graced my life, it only lasted long enough for someone to really get to know me. Then it all went south.

There is good and bad in us all. Anyone who says differently is already showing their bad just with that very statement. Dan Savage of Savage Love states that there's a "price of admission" to every relationship. Is the price I'm asking really that high? Have I over-valued myself? It's not a question I can really answer, I know. That's something everyone has to look at and judge for themselves. But in the words of Jonathan Coulton:

"I quit... I'm done... cuz' I don't think it's gonna turn out okay It's.... no fair it's.... no fun... if everytime it's gonna end the same way... me: zero... big bag world: one."

That's pretty much my view on interpersonal love at this point. The song lyrics above were meant as a joke... but when you're the clown, it gets less and less funny every time you have to say the joke.

Yes, these thoughts are permeating my consciousness right now and keeping me from being productive... which is why I'm writing them down. I'm not expecting help (although that's what everyone wants to do) I'm just venting.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Why?

It's 90 degrees outside with a heat index of 102. That means it FEELS like it's 102 degrees outside with the humidity and other factors in play.

At home... in Indiana... it's 71 degrees. With a heat index of ... 71 degrees!

Why the hell am I still here?