Medium lovers like a good into. This piece is personal and I haven’t Even decided what I am writing about but I do know this. I am 1 month late.
Now that we have gotten the picture out of the way. Let’s get to the meat and bacon of the journal entry.
This year alone, I have cycled through four hearts and I am on the fifth. The sixth was wise enough to walk away early but we found a truce. I will see her when she is in the neighborhood and that is that.
Did that sound callous and cold and inhuman to you? Yup. It is but this exercise is not about writing for an audience to think I am a good guy. It’s about being honest. This honesty is why I haven’t been able to write. I keep thinking that my next entry will be mushy and sweet like the gratitude piece. And the longer I waited the more I put my obedience to God over my fear of looking like a player. When I say player, I mean my fear of being a narcissist.
But the facts do not lie. I am hurting and I am hurting so I don’t feel the pain, so I can keep the cane at bay; so I can say, may it rain out loud. May it pour like summer where it’s wet like dew and cool like sauna.
I’m using lust to cure a lack of love.
Except there is no lack, there is second guessing, fear, and high standards. If my high standards were Harvard, it would be attainable. I’m offering poverty and require a resume of an ex US President.
I’m an Ivy League school offering to student loans, with no jobs on the other side. I’m wrecking perfectly tended gardens just cause I need to pee or poop. But it’s cool cause I’ll be adorable like a German Husky.
I can’t sAy it!
For goodness sakes. How does one fall deeply for 4 women over the space of 5 months and have no feelings when it’s done? Just memories.
I’m in the last stage of grief. I’m finally out of the dog house and trying to rediscover who I am. Trying to reconnect with the culled version of me. Embracing the image and perception that comes from being myself.
I’m embracing potentially being a narcissist. Not because I like it. Because if it is what I am, what good is swimming against the tide.
But truly am I narcissist because I didn’t care about these women or because I am blinded only by what I want and what I stand to gain.
Am I truly really only always playing chess and everyone is just a pawn or a queen or a bishop to move into safety and into offensive formations.
This isn’t what I thought will come out.
I’m gonna take an L on this piece because I’m trying to get out what is stuck in my heart but it’s not working. This pathetic piece is the result.
I’m saying nothing
I’m not vulnerable
I’m bashing myself assuming people would wanna read that.
In truth, I’m just a lonely horny 32 year old, afraid of being single for the rest of his life.
I wake up everyday and my most common thought is to wonder if I will ever love again, if I will ever be loved again, if I will have little Dolapo’s, if I will ever feel what it’s like to combine sexual intimacy with deep long term commitment, trust and unwavering connection in core values.
I look around and I want what my mentors have at year 25 of marriage; I want in before I can commit to be exclusive.
That math doesn’t add up. You and I know it yet it’s the story that I keep telling myself and it’s kept my mental Netflix subscription fully funded.
I’m now at a point after so long of self doubt where my problem isn’t not knowing that I have something of value to offer, my problem now is that I want more back than I am.
What do all 4 women have in common? I go into each one knowing why I will not be with them and I tell them, but I commit to being willing to try only to end up deciding for the same reason I had reservations on except without giving it to them as a reason. I’m tired of this cycle.
I wanna love!
My uncle asked me what my specific prayer request is:
God, I wanna fuck my wife soon and I want her to be what you said she is — a gOOd thing.