Once upon a time...

What happens when you can't keep track of a real diary.

Thursday, July 29, 2004

Here we are at the fork in the road.

Do I still believe in love? Such a cliched question.

I've been here before. Many years ago, while I was in college. I asked myself the same question. I wonder if the decision will be any different. I know what the result will be. It has it's merits, but can I live with the consequences? Of course I can. It's a self-indulgent question anyway.

I used to think that love, once truly and freely professed, was eternal and all of the other happy little myths we perpetuate from generation to generation. I never thought that I would face a time that my love would die, or simply fade away. Ignorance such as that is indeed blissful, precarious, but blissful.

After my divorce I had a conversation with a friend that boiled down to me whining to him over my realization that nothing lasts forever. Nothing at all. He laughed at me, saying that he had known that for years. I looked at him and told him that I had known that as well, but that I had always allowed for one exception - love. I always thought that love would last. I was wrong.

He had no response.

So here I am again, wondering if I want the hassle of love, or even the pursuit thereof. I know that I am catching myself disconnecting from people, allowing old habits to resurface. Instead of looking at a new situation and wondering how I can make people around me happy, I am looking at the same situation, and finding the ways they can make me happy. Hell, I don't even know if that's healthy or self-destructive now. I know that when I made a point of caring about people and doing all I could to help them and push them to be better, I was rapidly becoming bitter and jaded toward the world. What else can be expected from a borderline martyr complex. However, I'm not so sure that my growing tendency to either find how to make a situation work to my advantage, or to simply shrug and move on is better in any objective sense of the word.