I’m not the kind of person that makes friends easily. Relationships for me have rarely past that lustful initial stage. And bosses have always managed to wear on my patience due to their inflated self-worth.
My psychologist – mandated by my most recent attempt at employment – would say I’m suffering from NPD. It’s the term they use to tear down those who dare to assume they are worth more than they are valued at. Isn’t it more likely though that I’m suffering from the absurdity, ignorance and emotional penury of those around me?
I was doomed to live a solitary existence as some secular eremite in a cave somewhere.
Well, at least that’s what I always thought anyway. That’s the interesting part – I thought! Normally I don’t think – I know!
Guess that’s why I’m here spewing this into a word-processor. Maybe if I write it down then I can reprocess it later. Wouldn’t share this with anyone else. Hear their nonsensical attempts to interpret my feelings.
This girl is flawed of course. Her left eye wanders and is a lighter shade of blue than the other; she walks with a slight limp; finds emoticons an acceptable way express emotion and gives a sharp snort when she laughs.
And yet, I can’t get her out of my mind. There is something about her that won’t allow me to escape. I hang on her words – those lips, natural rouge – declaring the truths of the world.
She mesmerises me but time is short so I shall finish with the question I aim to answer: How the fuck do I dispel her from my mind?
It’s been weeks and her scent follows me around. A hint of jasmine. It strangles me. I can’t think or sleep without her. I need to be with her.
How can a snort be cute? How can a laugh where you nearly choke on your own swine-like susceptibilities be endearing? And yet, it is! She tortures me. Her imperfect perfection.
I always thought that love was for lonely fools to justify their own weakness. Or for those driven by lust and need to justify their own faults. But what if it is more?
The world seems less…pathetic with her in it. It seems brighter; people are tolerable. Ignorant yes, but tolerable!
And there it is. I found it. Her fatal flaw! Insecurity. She calls me cynical, arrogant, and detached. I’m again left with the only thoughts that I can value, my own. Perhaps none are worthy of my love? And yet, that sweet laugh…
Image From: http://data.whicdn.com/images/53246236/original.jpg