No Two People Are “Meant” To Be Together!

This is BS and a fairy tale!

Of all the relationships I have been in, there have been three that lasted over at least 2 years. In all three relationships, I felt something special with them, respectively. I mean, obviously, because if you spend that much time with somebody, it’s evident that you have a connection or else you would have never spent all that time with them in the first place.

In all three of the relationships I mentioned, I felt like (at one point or another) a future was ensured. I really hurt one of the guys and I’ve really regretted doing it ever since, because he was a great catch and has went on to do amazing things in his life (I have him added on Facebook). I made some bad choices based on trying to make another person in my life happy and trying to acquire their approval so much so that I sacrificed my relationship with him in the process. My relationship with him was virtually perfect and flawless before I messed things up. I believe he and I could have had an incredible life together.

Things just didn’t work out with the two other guys, but they were great, too. I will always have a love for all three of them, because like I just said, if you spend that much time with somebody and share a love that lasts that long, you will feel it in you forever.

However, I don’t believe in this idea that two people are simply “meant” to be together!

I could say that about all three of the guys I just mentioned, especially the one I hurt!

That fable assumes our fate is predestined, which is BS! Any decision we make, anywhere, before a given situation develops can completely alter that situation as can any decision another person makes or any development we react to.

Pseudo-Poetic

For Ben

The ungloved parts of my hands are cold.
The adventure playground clings to Tarmac;
it is dark. We can’t see the tips of our toes as we swing.
You have too many fingers for the monkey bars.

Fifteen minutes ago.
Past the middle-class postage-stamp estate which holds most of us.
Our friends chase the coloured blooms back
to the chemicals that made them.
You say it’s poetic.
I like the way the ash lingers;
the way the grass flames like a city under siege.

A child as high as our empty hands
stands, cupping each explosion with the o of his mouth.
To him, they are still just fireworks.

Who’s idea was the park?
We, old enough to know that skin
sticks to slide; perhaps we have exams tomorrow.
The LED screams of your phone screen find no listeners in this blackness.
Gaudy primary colours, chipped,
revealing rusty bars.

The horizon is a mauve bruise
behind the red metal fence.

We would annotate those fireworks.
Stack them into equations;
solve them so that they explode
with no remainders.

A gold plume ruptures the night.
Forks into paths like a bird’s foot.
It is your metaphor for how we will leave,
separate, carving lives through the clouds.

It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.
But look, you say,
how they sparkle when they leave.

Breath

I like smoking at parties now

My fingers are dusty with ink
from packing sentences into paragraph packing crates
so I can leave out of the front door one day;

You are telling me you’ve found a new way to kill you.

You shared a lighter with the boy
who put me out with tepid water,
who would have kept my bones as keepsakes.
His lips, your lungs,
my wings.

I have passed from breath to breath
until I was ash caught in the mercy of the wind.
I am not smoke. I fly free from his lips and your lungs.

Smoke your cigarettes.

Exercise.

I appall the word exercise. Shouldn’t it be training? As in training for the forces of life as we get older and age?

I stopped doing run-in-place cardio because I realized how silly it is. I focus primarily on lifting and boxing now, and for the first time in six years I have abs showing! I used to be scared to lift any weights a few years ago because I thought I’d get bulky and unattractive, but this is how I see it: if guys, with infinitely more testosterone in their bodies than me, struggle to bulk and significantly put on muscle, then how should I expect to? It’s purely logic! That was my eureka moment!

Now I feel that my discipline is impregnable. And my ass looks even better from all the squatting and lunges.

So true!

So true!

2

I’m a happy camper.