I'm Not As Small As I Look

The universe is full of irony and many monstrous pranks. Several years ago, the Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton University reported that stars, planets and gases make up a mere 5% of the universe. They say that the rest is "dark matter" and some as yet unknown substance. How much space is taken up by sad, lonely, heartbroken human beings who have only a few years to master this wretched little game before it's time to return to the void? I'm sure that it's a very small amount; infinitesimal and of no consequence. Especially when compared to the amount of noble gases and matter out there.

But I feel bigger than that, much bigger. When I'm in pain, the universe is but a pea, or a puny nut, or perhaps a drop of rain. A contrary appearance is an illusion. Have you ever noticed how love punishes you for simply doing what it insists you do? You want to tell your lover how you feel, but doing that may make you seem needy. Instead, you want to be aloof and casual. That makes you more attractive. People don't really want to be with someone who really needs anyone. That alone is twisted, but it's only the beginning.

Before even leaving high school, you had better have learned that appearance and money mean everything, despite the heartfelt conviction of many that attraction is about, "Who you are on the inside." It's not. Prepare to be judged for your wallet, and/or your weight and looks. That's the way it is, and it matters not how much you like it or don't.

When you fall in love with someone, don't tell them. If you do, repeat it rarely (unless you're married) and, again, act like you don't need anyone. Is it a myth that some women like assholes more than nice guys? I'm sorry to say it, but no, it's not. Some women will enjoy the company of men who steal from then, insult them, and mock them. Kind men who empower and treat with respect may do well to get to know their hand.

I really hate generalizations, and none of this is true of all men or all women. As an romantic, what has me so disgusted is that some of these generalizations are true. These days I find myself alone, and I've made my peace with that, especially since I'm partly to blame. I have a tendency to try and talk girlfriends out of being with me, insisting that they can do better. After all, I have no money and I'm deformed. I have to accept that I have nothing to offer another human being. And that hurts, dear reader. Right now, I may as well be the universe, not simply a part of it. I ache at my memories of those I've loved.

But in my solitude I will not become bitter. I've tasted love, and the flavor of honey will stay on my tongue forever. Perhaps for an idealist, romantic love is best experienced in the mind, and that's where it should stay. For someone like me, with so little to offer, it is only in the realm of the mind that heartache and crass judgement can be avoided. I prefer not to be soured on something that has tested me severely, nearly driven me mad, but also filled me full of joy and companionship. Every time I fall in love I risk losing my affection for it. Recently, I fell in love with a girl named, "Amanda." Who knows.