Belly of the Whale
I’ve concluded that I want to live old and with cats; this is what I am meant for.
I’m not cut out for love, for affection, for intimacy…perhaps I am, but not in the way you want me to. I can only love all, my limit ends there.
I just don’t know what I want, but I do know what I don’t want; that much is clear. Idealism and delusions absorb my mind and nothing is ever perfect.
I suppose that’s the issue, then. Nothing is ever perfect, more importantly, it does not feel perfect. It’s the gradual frequency of disappointment where I keep letting you down, now I feel I can’t fix. I know the solution, see you more often, but it’s always so much work. In the end I know I only ever disappoint, so why even try?
I’ve become a bit Apathetic to this whole relationship, which is the worst thing I could ever do. But I’m over-ruled by my emotions, Ryan Gosling said it best:
”…I relate to that, because sometimes I don’t feel anything at all for things I’m supposed to, and other times I feel too much. It’s not always like it is in the movies.”
I always feel so strongly, that when I begin to not feel I don’t know what to do with myself.
To love scares me, this is as simple as it’ll ever get.
