Are you a serial monogamist, or forever chasing and playing game after game? How do you love?
Through my logical lenses, I poo-pooed monogamy. Daddy’s little girl (six kids by four different women), I never liked the idea of being “owned,” or “claimed,” as if a big red stamp was splayed across my forehead forbidding from me the things I found most entertaining. I didn’t like that someone else’s emotions weighed so heavily on my shoulders. As if I didn’t have plenty of things to sift through in my own cluttered attic.
I didn’t like how friends would stay in on weekends because they had gotten into fights with their boyfriends. Or how boyfriends would get mad at friends if they wore short dresses out. Or how time and time again friends would cry to me, shoving iPhones in my face asking, “What does this mean?!”
It seemed…like such a waste of the absolute most attractive time of one’s life. Does everyone not realize that we should settle at the same rate as our wrinkles?
And then one day…
I say I was dragged into love completely against my own will, clawing and scratching at the pavement. I tried to tuck back the corners of events as they unfolded. But I have found that is the relentless nature of…ugh…I wish there were another word other than “love.” The word “love” is like cupcake frosting that is pretty to look at but much too sweet in your mouth. (I hate sweets).
If this isn’t making any sense that’s because the-word-that-will-not-be-named does not make much sense to me. It has given me the most euphoric tastes and then moments later turned them bitter. It’s a dangerous, deadly, addicting, maddening, orgasmically delicious thing.
It’s always a game. It’s you against the deepest parts of yourself. I just try to enjoy the playing.