Crumbling foundation or remodeled walls...

I'm a 'live every moment' kind of girl; i'm completely aware that tomorrow isn't promised to me and wasting any moment being unhappy just doesn't make sense. SO I must say, that the epitome of a complete living hell for me, is waiting; and even further, waiting for something that may never manifest. But sometimes, you just have to take a risk; whether it's a few moments, or a lifetime, the risk is worth the potential payoff. In the meantime, it's still pure hell.

I feel like a complete waste of skin for complaining so much about something so seemingly trivial; to try and articulate the level of meaning always seems to fall ridiculously short. This is pretty much the same rant over and over again, so let me sum it up in case you're short on time: bitter and jaded, hopeless romantic, hates people and thus chooses to stay happily single, although angry that someone amazing enough to change that choice will never come along. The comedically tragic plight of plenty of women who are actually worthy of existence. And of course, one comes along who does JUST that, and it fails miserably. End act V, the tragedy is over.

The bottom line is this: my entire life, I've shunned religion, politics, plenty of events in historical records...I don't believe in much of anything conventional...other than love. I'm a hopeless romantic to the core. I watch chick flicks by the dozen, and have been plenty comfortable for years, settled into the idea that all humans suck and that my romanticism is indeed hopeless. Love exists, but some of us aren't lucky enough to have it once, much less more than that.

So, having realized quite some time ago that not everyone is lucky enough to find love, I felt pretty damn lucky that I found it 1.5 times. Yes, one and a half; that's a discussion for another day. What I'm having a REALLY fucking hard time with is the idea that this fucking infamous cunt by the name of Fate, decided she'd just drive the knife in a little further. She prompted me toward one random act that was clearly the most amazing and the most horrific thing that I've ever done because it elicited the most peaceful, zen happiness I've ever felt...and then ripped that away and left me looking all wide-eyed and teary wondering what happened to my shiny little prize.

Yes, Mrs. Wicked Witch Fate Monster presented me with the most amazing person I've ever met. Oh, and she was clever. She could have sent him to my door with a bouquet of daffodils and an engagement ring, but she's no fool. She knew I'd have run like hell. Nope. The clever bitch gave me a mere portal into stimulating conversation with no fear of being stifled. This person was countries away!! I could have my proverbial cake and eat it too...all the intellectual stimulation I could handle, and none of the attachment? Sign me the fuck up, Fate; gimme the dotted line, I'm IN. Digital communication, little to no sexual innuendo; the bitch tricked me into thinking it was just a new friendly person with whom I could converse at will.

SO there ya have it; endless conversation in both written and verbal form; talking about everything from literature, to philosophy, movies...even bizarre things that no one even knows. I hate, no LOATHE the telephone, but I talked to this person for hours on end and was still completely intrigued. Yet, I could still duct tape mouths of lesser humans and fancy a meaningless roll in the hay whenever I saw fit? Hmm. I was beginning to see that this may be too good to be true.

I was right. Stupid girl. This isn't just some person with whom you can have intellectual conversation from 6000 miles away. Ms. Dirty Bitch Fate somehow hacked into my database and took the written list that details the exact person I'd create in a lab if I could, and she gave him to me on a silver platter. This was the person of my dreams. So lo and behold, when I realized this, I decided it may be worth the risk to investigate. I stayed calm and considered, day by day, what might happen when this person returned to my town of residence. We planned to have dinner; we both seemed to be looking forward to it...perhaps Fate wasn't the whore I thought she was. It seemed as though she might have done something to reward me this time.

Oh. Silly, silly hopeless romantic. Let's just cut the shit and fast forward; after 6 weeks of reeling me in, of non-stop wonderful conversation (which thankfully finally became splattered with sexual innuendos) there came a hiatus in conversation just prior to this person's returning to the country; totally understandable, there are details to which must be tended and I went about my life, knowing that I'd be getting the reward of face to face conversation soon enough. After said return, some time went by...I was, of course, impatient, but also totally willing to provide space; after all, I'd never even met this person, I wasn't looking to be high on the priority list. After what seems like way too much difficulty, the face to face meeting finally happened; I thought it went smashingly well...no it DID in reality go amazingly well.So therein lies the problem: I thought I was the exception, when in fact I'm just the rule; whether he can't be bothered with me merely because life is too full or that he's really just not that into me, my stupid, stupid, open heart died. I wanted it, I let myself believe, that I might spend time with someone I actually LIKED, and that god forbid, there might have been a chance that I wouldn't have become painfully bored with said interaction like every other. I don't know how long it's been since I thought that...I hate everyone I meet. So my conversation, my zen happiness, my excitement that there was a person on earth from whom I didn't want to immediately flee...all of that went straight down the gutter like little Georgie's sailboat. Unfortunately, we don't all float down here, because I'm drowning. I'm drowning in the idea that I was fooled. I'm not easily fooled, because you can't really fool someone who doesn't care. But god DAMN IT, I cared. A lot. And now, I have nothing. I have a random text or a FB msg every other week, because apparently I'm just really not all that amazing.

The fucking irony is that no one really knew much about this, yet it seems as though it caused everyone to slither out of the wood work; I've been asked on more dates, and have been the target of more expressed interest in the past month than I can ever recall; exes came lurking, like everyone is just waiting for me to give up this silly thing they all thought was fleeting. Even the attached men in my life make it a point to tell me how amazing I am, but I still kind of wonder why this person was thrown in my face only to disappear. Seems unnecessarily cruel; not only to me, but to the poor, unfortunate souls who think they might actually be the one to get this heart to start beating again. Sorry ladies and gentlemen: I appreciate your affection, but it's too late.

And so I complain. I complain because Fate fucked me and made sure that she was the only one who got anything out of it. I was happy being alone because I'd convinced myself that what I wanted didn't exist. I'd rather live happily alone than settle, any day of the fucking week. I was genuinely HAPPY. But what I truly wanted has now been thrown in my face so I KNOW that it's out there, yet I can't have it. I really could have gone on living happily single, not putting much effort into those who didn't deserve it, and just living. Now I'm just the epitome of bitter that I couldn't have just skipped this whole fiasco. Was six weeks of conversation and one interaction with someone THAT amazing really worth the festering wound (maybe I should get that checked out) that it left behind? I'd LOVE to be strong enough to say yes. But I'm not. This took the one weak spot I had, in the depth of my soul, and dug into it with a spork. I can't even begin to figure out a band-aid for this one. And so I bitch. And rant. And complain that I don't understand, because I process emotion outwardly and because I fall apart without logic to apply to my psyche.

That's it. that's all I've got. I believed in love, I found a person I could have maybe thought about actually *gasp* dating? and at this point, all the dates, all the attention, all the 'you're amazing, it's his loss' is just making me tired. You're all the same. He was different. And now, I'm forever different. I bid you good day, I must go sit at the bedside of my soul because it's on the way out and it shouldn't die alone.