it is broken...

i struggle with some very dark fundamental delusions that nothing good lasts forever. i know in the fabric of my soul that everyone will eventually leave.

and in doing so, i set myself up to fail.

if everyone is going to leave anyway, why should i bother letting anyone in? why should i invest in someone? why should i allow myself to love anyone?

and so i put up walls. they are very high, and they are covered with barbed wire. at the top of the walls are evil little gremlins who like to feast on the souls of newborn puppies.

those gremlins see the good stuff climbing the walls, and report immediately to my brain and my heart, calling in the defenses, reminding me over and over again that there is no point in letting that good stuff get any closer.

and so i have existed for most of my adult life. it's not just about love. it's about work, it's about friends, it's about luck, it's about my karma. but the good stuff that has to do with love hurts the most.

as the love-related good stuff climbs the wall, the fucking gremlins really let loose. they call in every point of attack they can find.

shut down.
do not communicate.
do not engage.
do not call.
do not answer their calls.
make sure you are clear that they mean nothing.
tell them nothing about your childhood or family for as long as possible.
be mean.
be flirty.
be unavailable.
be neurotic.
push them away.
don't let them in.

but damn if sometimes that love-related good stuff isn't stronger than my gremlins and neuroses.

and it gets over the walls.

into the minefields.

and then the gremlins wait it out. they know that the love-related good stuff is gonna try to get back over that wall any minute now. the other shoe WILL drop. and then they can say "see. we told you so. no one wants to stay inside the wall. you're not enough."

and then, when it is over, and my gut is burning and i haven't been able to keep solid food down for three days and i've smoked 3 packs of cigarettes in as many days, and i can't sleep because the smell of him is still in my house, and sometimes in my dreams i catch a whiff of him and my brain says, "dude, it was all just a nightmare, just reach over and touch him." and when i do, he's still gone and will never come back. when all of him that has been my life fits in two nordstrom's shopping bags by my desk, and all that i get to keep of him fits inside a prada shoebox...when all of that is added up...and i realize that the gremlins are right. no one wants to stay inside the walls for very long.

the gremlins get to be right. i get to lose my best friend.