The title of this entry is a song by Guided By Voices that I’d never heard and began to play on Spotify at the very moment that I began this first entry. I empathize with it’s sentiment, it’s knee-jerk puerile reaction to unrequited or irresponsibly modulated acceptance of heartbreak.
Heartbreak moves the world. Not love. Love was the mistake. Romantic love is a moment, not institution, it is an instant sacrosanct memory. A holy divestment between two or a few people. It is a game that we take too seriously. A warning from our higher consciousness.
"Aren’t we all just hamsters on a wheel anyway?"
The moment she said that, I fell madly in love. She was beyond all this…effluence. All these distractions. Still susceptible to cats, and ultra quirky, super witty cute little Indie films, but even so: I didn’t think it would happen again. You want to know what I thought would happen?
I thought I’d wrangle someone either far above or far below me into loving me. Either a patroness or a pet. I didn’t think I’d have to endure a drama again. She proved how stupid I am.
"I only lie by omission."
Let me go back to that moment, please, and feel a twinge of paranoia. Let me get giddy at the prospect of playing at sparring with another persons psyche in delicate, premeditated, methodical ways, instead of the sledgehammer.
My friend Murph says our emotions are tools. We all have a toolbox. In mine, I have determined, are a sledgehammer, a jackhammer, and a microscope.
I usually wield the sledgehammer. Sometimes I wield the jackhammer. I always have the microscope handy, but that “I” is really some strange maladjusted, dystrophied ego monkey, who keeps it all hid.
So the sledgehammer says to her, “You are my everything.”
The moment I said it, I regretted it. I hadn’t learned a thing.
Moments we’ll have. I’m finally confident that I can do this thing I espouse. I’ve only been in love three times. Five times, if you count the one that didn’t exchange a word with me beyond her cashier duties, and the one that in her cashier duties was technically illegal.
Where are they now? Bound inextricably to moments we spent together. Moving away, then, back around, then out away.