What I was going to blog, and couldn't, and what I am officially blogging

What I wanted, to blog, and couldn't, due to Blogger error:
Looking for Love - or - How to Run into a Brick Wall Repeatedly

(Good contender as title for the 'How To' book I am SO qualified to write, don’t you think?)

Stocktaking after the latest romantic disaster, I realised that my forays into the realm of looking for love reads like a masochists wet dream. No, no, for real. I end up wiping bits of my heart off my own face, like a drunk wiping off vomit, clutch around at the pieces I can actually salvage, thank the person who assisted, and toddle off to go and puzzle it 'together' again. Done with that. No more.

As of yesterday, I have ended that chapter in the misadventures-of-a-closet-masochist-specializing-in-mincing-her-own-heart (me), and buried any dream of finding love. Pissed on the spot, just in case I thought of digging it up again. As an extra precaution, I'm wearing rings on my ring finger, which should zap anyone sniffing in my direction from a ways off, so I don't even have the opportunity to grab the barely-there heart, and shove it at the usually bewildered man with the “I-will-fuck-you-up(even more)-emotionally”-sign flashing on his forehead.

No more dreaming of having someone next to me, no more looking at baby clothes, no more even contemplating someone’s potential, no more no more no more nomorenomorenomore. I just don't think I am physically able to withstand the level of pain I put myself through, and deal with the shit choices I make, and stay sane. I AM DONE.

On the up-side, I have been having actual physical heart cramps for a few days, so maybe (hold thumbs with me, here), that means that I'm nearing the end of this particular life, in which I keep choosing to martyr myself on the altar of the god of Fucking Stupidity or, Love, depending on how you look at it. If I do die, there probably won't be any further blogs, but, I don't think too many people out there is gonna notice, so cheers, have a few sweet moments with your beloved in remembrance, why doncha! Tell them you’re celebrating not being a fucking spastic sense-depraved idiot(me).

It's not like I know what I'm missing anyway.


(PS. I did try to make this humorous, but hear me, this hurts, and I can’t take no mo, I just can’t. Please, please, please this needs to end, I am way past caring how it ends, just make it stop already. I’m beggin, honest to god, I’m beggin.)


And what I'm offically blogging for today:

I'm ok. Funnily enough, I am seriously ok. Last night I realised that I might actually not have had any real feelings for Sweetie after all. It may just have been an ego issue. See, I've always been the one who gets told that I'm driving people nuts, and that I'm wanted, blah blah blah. So, I'm thinking that maybe being the one taken for a test drive, instead of being the tester, threw me. Made me loopy for a while. Isn't that just too shallow for words? I also think that part of the problem is that I consider myself ready for The Relationship, and made so many preparations before Sweetie came along, that I decided beforehand he would be It. Thing is, yes, I do think that we have some kind of link, and yes, I am very drawn to him, but, obviously that's gonna wait for the next lifetime, maybe we'll sort it out then. Or, maybe this was about paying karma, which I've always felt I owe him, for treating him the way I did when I was a angst-ridden teen. I am kinda sad, I mean, rejection is never on one's list of fave things to receive, is it? But if it's an ego-issue, damn! I did not think I could be that shallow - Live and learn, heh? I pray the angels of Love drench him in what he wants, he's too good a catch to not have love. For me, nothing's changed, I'm still the same, doing what I do, feeling what I feel. The world turns once again. Whatever this was, it's over, and that's ok. Really, really ok.