A few years ago, I queried my flist, \”Which is harder, breaking up or growing up?\” Only two said growing up, and I was one of the two. Two years later, if queried, I wonder what everyone would say now. I\’m still sticking by \’growing up.\’
I\’ve been through about six break-ups in the past year. I felt better after all of them, even when I was the one getting the kiss off, because I knew that ultimately, that relationship wasn\’t what I wanted.
Recently, my last lover told me (after I had severed the relationship) that it wouldn\’t work out for us, anyway, because he\’s not \”intellectual enough for me,\” and doesn\’t like being serious. Well, he was right. Prior to that, a lover told me that I was too weird for him. Touché. He was too normal for me.
I guess what I\’m getting at is that I\’ve learned to not focus on what was and what might have been, and to focus instead on the present and how to get the hell out of the present without involving any innocent bystanders\’ hearts.
It\’s harder than it should be. Those bystanders are persistent in their affections, despite my protestations. And sometimes, yeah, I\’ve gotten caught up in the moment, focused only on letting myself get whisked away from my problems by concentrating on the giddy sex type thing before me.
But if they can\’t talk bioethics, conflict theory, Mapplethorpe, Nitke, Moondog, and Killing Joke all in one evening, what good are they? \”Check, please.\”
I\’ve got five high powered, battery operated sex toys, and I\’m wearing them out. It\’s not a problem, though. Better to wear out my sex toys than my lovers. It\’s high time to treat the toys like they are disposable, instead of treating the people as such.
