And just when you think you're starting to get your shit together...

so then the door hits you on the way out. cold steel against your scantily clad bottom- it ALWAYS hits you on the way out, as if to say "you weren't wanted here anyways"- and the one place I never let them in becomes the one place I can truly hide- perhaps I did this on purpose? as if I was planning for this eventuality because I knew I was too fucked up to make it work. as if someone like me could ever make it work- but maybe that's really me talking instead of the alcohol, because God-damn, I am one morbid sonuvabich. So what do you do when all signs point to you waving goodbye as you flush four years of pain, suffering, and the most fulfilling relationship you're ever experienced down the drain? Drink. Heavily. Drunk dial anyone you ever thought seriously about even as a friend to let them know how much they meant to you, because for all you know this could be the last time you give enough of a fuck about anything to tell them just how much they helped you deal with all the fucked up shit in your life. But no- you chose to face all the monsters and your partner in crime didn't run away, no- they hid behind you as you fought the monsters off and battled through all the problems alone and tried to drown out all the abandonment issues you both had and all the impossible tears behind the music, because songs don't count as admissions of weakness, no- they're the one safe expression of self that's left in the world thanks to the record companies selling out every last one of their so-called stars to pre-recorded messages and glitter to make top-download quality hits on itunes. as if it weren't enough that I lose one of the few people who I actually gave a damn about, now I'm having to accept the fact that my soul-mate and I just want different things in life- fuck love, it's a bitch and a bitch will never do you right. So why should I keep trying? Keep propping up this propaganda under the guise of "true love", of "destiny", that one solid proof that we aren't responsible for this shit-hole we're born into and trapped in for life. THAT is the irony behind the phrase "life sentence , as in sentenced to life, as in you aren't worthy of death- the best punishment we could cook up for you is forcing you to live with yourself till you die of natural causes or being raped by a massive black dick one too many times- whichever happens first. So fuck life. fuck love. fuck restraint. and fuck anyone who says they give a shit because they don't. in fact- most people go their entire lives without experiencing a truly self sacrificing love- that is the truest form of love, a love that cares more for other than for self. think on that, you over-privileged assholes. The choice to move on from a long term dis-functional relationship means the destruction of one of us, literally  one of us has to move out, or corrode under the strains of watching the other move on- there is no happy ending to this.