Women don’t understand love
I sometimes feel like I am just running in circles. Every topic comes to a very similar conclusion.
They don’t understand even just the very concept of it. Maybe in some twisted and unreal way – they do. But I am sure they view our view of love just like that- as something unreal and sick. How good is their life! Men are serving them! They become pregnant, got kids, raise them and just enjoy everything that the society offers them. And their self-esteem problems? Oh, because Jody has fuller breasts! Oh, my nose is too big. Oh, this and that. Horrible! Just horrible hahaha!
I remember one girl… I was sleeping with her, approx. 3 years ago. A short romance. Just not a summer one 😉 it happened between November and January. It was rough because she was young… (haha oh my God, Datson! Pun intended!) But also because she wasn’t very experienced. Both in the concepts of love, ars amandi and relationships. She had a tough childhood. Fair enough. So did I. Yet, this could never be my personal alibi as the society expects everything from you when you are a man. You need to be tough, okay? It doesn’t matter whether your mother had schizophrenia, or your brother was an alcoholic. Or that if your father committed suicide.
If you’re a female, you’re a privileged little bitch. Spoiled beyond belief and without any need for taking responsibility for your actions. You had a bad day? Oh well, just lie down and relax. Take it easy, baby. You had a bad childhood? Of fuck, are you crazy? You won’t be taking any responsibility for your own life, right? C’mon! That would be stupid! Just blame everything on that and never ever develop yourself. Or try to understand what and why everything happened so that you can heal your emotional wounds to be able to become a proper responsible intelligent grown up. Or someone being able to be with others. No way.
Haha, I apologize for this very long intro. I always dive into metaphysical lectures when talking about other people. Maybe it’s the fact that I studied psychology. Maybe it’s my own pretty fucked up past. Or maybe those 4 years I’ve spent on Zen Buddhism. Or everything at once. It does not matter.
We fucked for a little bit, spend some time together and had some fun – and you see, even that she was just a “casual romance” and nobody serious in my life – she’ll always be in my heart. I will be reminding myself of her on my death bed. Just like every other one. Somehow, I can say that I loved every women I slept with. Okay, not every one of them. I need to exclude the biggest sluts. Sorry, girls. 😉 They were usually the best in sex, though. Not a surprise there.
But yeah. I was wishing her all the best and all. She got a new “serious” boyfriend. So shortly after that, she stopped talking with me. I am still not sure whether that was because she started this new relationship or because I told her she lacks some serious skills with oral. 😉
Every woman in my life usually has a specific song – connected with her in my memory. It happens spontaneously. My brain is weird. See, I am a fucking romantic. Again, no surprise there – men are the real romantics, as Rolo Tomassi says.
She has the “Time In A Bottle – Jim Croce” (widely known from “Days of Future Past” but it’s a very old song, and a very beautiful one!) probably because we both knew how little time we have.
So anyways, one year later I noticed she deleted me from FB. One year later I was sending links about my new project to everyone that I knew, so she was included in that cross-spam action. Turned out she’s pregnant and they are already living together. She mentioned that her boyfriend’s uncle is building a house for them, and then they will need to move in (oh la-la! Serious case! No excuses now, Mr Boyfriend!)
After a short conversation, she deleted my another FB account from her friends list (the business one). Okay, bitch. I realized – once fucking more time – that I was just a filler in her life. Like in a sandwich. A fucking sandwich! Hahaha! In that brief moment between one long term boyfriend and the other (for her I was a typical “badboy” that was sleeping with her shortly after she broke up with her previous partner; she was with him for 6 years) I’ve brought her sex, fun, few cool dates, she visited new unknown places and had good fun. And a good bit of emotional support. Of course, if not for my stable “no, I don’t want to be in a relationship” she would probably get pregnant with me. But, after a while she had no problems in deleting me from her life and probably memories. If only her current husband would knew what she did with me. And what she brought in for me? Apart from her pussy and some memories -not that much. But in life, memories are the thing that really matters. If I was going to choose between staying at home and doing nothing I’d still choose her. Of course, I could as well go and jump with a parachute. That would be a good memory to remember, too.
That’s my main point. She wasn’t a typical slut. She was a normal “girl next door”. They all are like that. That’s their nature. They cannot love. We are just the filler. In theory and practice. We even fill in their vaginas, haha! Literally, that’s our purpose. And apart from that of course – everything else.
Our capacity to love, our very willingness to love – whether it is directed towards a woman, a dog or anything else – is what makes us weak. But it also makes us strong and powerful. This is the polarity no woman would ever be able to fully apprehend.
And another one – Moby – God Moving Over the Face of the Waters – yes, that is the one from one of the best movies ever made – Heat, with Al Pacino and Robert de Niro. Oh my god, what a beautiful movie it is. Action, criminal, drama. Friendship. Honor. And love. True love. They portrayed it so good. So good, that it doesn’t exist in a real world. Only the mind of a man could create something so deep and profound. That specific vision moves me deeply every time I watch it. They don’t do movies like that now. Some songs don’t fit even a single woman from my life, though. They are far too beautiful for that.