Carry On Bags Only
Last night I met up with this guy, who is a monster ping-pong player and a very hip cat. Turns out the man knows his baseball, too…which in my book is always a sign of a tres cool person. Sadly, he likes the Dodgers, which rates just slightly higher than digging things like oppression, but is not nearly as bad as being a Red Sox fan.
I’m starting to get a clearer picture of just what the hell is going on in my world. I’m getting that there were, indeed, signs, that the relationship apocalypse was coming. And while I didn’t choose to ignore them but rather didn’t put them in to their proper context…well, yeah. There were signs.
I’m also fighting off the urge to get angry…which sounds like a really bad idea, I know. But my hope is to get in to a new place (the last one didn’t work out, but I’ve seen several more since) and THEN get angry. I don’t want to say things that I might regret and lose not only a fiance, but a friend. It is, to say the least, a balancing act. In my head I go back and forth from Jeff Buckley to Ministry these days, but I don’t have to give in to my lowest level impulses.
And speaking of lowest level impulses…
I have now been told several times that I need to get laid. This is just not sound guy advice. As if, somehow, that is going to fix everything…I’m going to get off and get on with my life? I have never understood this line of thinking. I think it’s something that we men tend to tell each other when something like this happens because (1) we aren’t exactly going to open up and say “tell me how you’re feeling” and (2) we have no idea what else to say and (3) how can sex NOT be the answer?
Now, I’m not standing on a high horse here and knockin’ casual sex. Do what you do, I don’t judge. I’m saying that I don’t get the benefit derived from casual sex as a remedy for a broken heart. If anything, it’s going to make it worse. Much worse. You’re going to feel that much more alone after the fact, and it’s going to send you further down the downward spiral…and then the next time you do fall for someone, you’re going to carry that much more baggage with you.
And really, who needs baggage? I’ve got enough I’m trying to handle right now…the last thing I need is to get laid. The first thing I need is an apartment. Preferably one that won’t mind Ministry’s “So What” being blasted while I move.