Moving has somewhat disrupted my daily routine which in turn has disrupted my writing. I write everyday. The thing is that I’m a creature of habit and for me to feel comfortable writing, I have to do it in a set way. That’s why I’ve been posting retreaded blogs. In actuality, when I repost old essays, I usually edit them, adding/ subtracting from them, reconfiguring them, because that’s the process of writing. Writing, or at least good writing, is really all about re-writing.
Most of you who read me know that my writing usually follows a logical path. Most of the time you can follow my train of thought – there’s a “there” there in my posts. Today, I really don’t have a beginning, middle and end to my post…
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I take Thursday for the day to write about relationships. I am by no means a “relationship expert.” In fact, I am a complete failure at relationships. Go look up “relationship failure” and you come across my image. Still, failing never stopped me from trying, so I do these Thursday posts on relationships, mostly because Friday I write on sex. So it fits, right?
I’m just going to put it out there and say it like I see it: relationships don’t work.
Sure, there are people who have been married since the Stone Age but that don’t mean jack. I know some seriously miserable people who been chained to their mate for years. Shit, I’ve been in a profoundly committed relationship (yes, some brave woman once agreed to marry and live with yours truly), and was seriously unhappy for the last year/ year and a half of that relationship.
So, let’s get that straight: just cuz you’re hanging on to a relationship for a long time doesn’t mean the relationship is working. And if you’re soooo working it right, then why are you here reading the blog of a seriously fragmented individual. Don’t you have a man?
Where was I? Oh! Yeah, I’m getting some direction now. I was at the fact/ observation that relationships just don’t work. They don’t. Seriously now, anyone here tells me their relationship is working and I’ll deconstruct that statement. I have known people who have been married for a million years and all those relationships have been marred by seriously debilitating acts of betrayal and just all-around nassy shit.
I’ll lay it bare.
But before I get into that, I need to be as transparent as possible and just put it out there that I’m a total relationship failure. Did I say that already? Okay, just making sure…
When I care – when I get really into a woman, I become the exact opposite of who I am. My sense of independence becomes pathological neediness, my insight devolves into pitiful gibberish, and I become an emotional cripple. Yeah, I write better poetry (or at least I like to think so), but that's about it. What little patience I possess disappears completely, my spirituality suffers, and there are seven-year-olds with a better concept of time and gratification.
To top it all off I want it all and I want it right now! And when I say all, I mean everything. I become this demanding idiot that wants nothing less than your total, complete, utter surrender.
Most smart women run screaming from me, but there have been a few brave (and seriously fragmented) souls who have braved all this, thinking there’s an “Eddie” in here somewhere they can learn to love. The thing is you’ll have to drag that Eddie kicking and screaming into the open and I can’t even guarantee it will be worth your time and effort.
This is the truth.
Relationships don’t work. We all spend a lot of time building, destroying and re-building walls. We forget who we are, and if you’re at least half as honest as I am, you’ll cop to the fact that you too act the fool when bitten with the love bug. We sit there with our beloved and watch helplessly as we say and do things that are just horrible – humiliating even. It’s what I call “relationship tourettes.”
In every other aspect of my life I am a capable and loving man. I am a capable and respected professional, I lead a life of service, care about my world, don’t kick dogs, and try to be the best person I can be on a daily basis. And yet, no sooner I get moony over some woman, I crumble and become this needy, neurotic, emotionally crippled spazzzz! And you’re no different, so stop your snickering. Because I know for a fact that you act as shamefully (if not more) than I do when it comes to relationships. You might be in denial about it right now, but take my word for it, okay? The most insane ma’fuccas I have ever met were the ones that swore on a stack of bibles they weren’t insane.
No, relationships don’t work. I know this for a fact. It’s not even an observation anymore. They don’t work.
But I have come to the realization that relationships weren’t meant to work. That’s right. Relationships are designed not to work. The other day, I told this woman I’m very much attracted to that I can take her neurosis, her aversion to commitment, her selfishness and self-centeredness. I can take all that. Shit, all those words actually describe all of us to a certain degree. I told her I can take all that if she would only add willingness.
You see, relationships were never meant to work. The work of relationships comes from us, not the relationship. In the end, the only qualifications I can say I have as someone attempting to write on relationships is that I am honest and I am willing (sometimes ) to make them work.