part of me is gone. hiding? auto-corpsed out?
i'm remembering ten years ago, when i loved someone so intensely, so passionately, that i sincerely believed the fate of the world was dependent on whether or not the two of us would ever be together.
if yes, it would be a lifetime of splendor the likes of which no one could ever dream.
if no, it would plunge us all into the acidic lungs of a red-death nightmare from which we would never wake.
i know now that life never begins to approach the intensity of either one of those scenarios. the truth is this simple;
if yes, we would've dated/fucked for 6 months to a year, and given her personality as it was (and as i've finally come to see it), she would've gotten bored with me, and cheated on me, and she'd have to deal with the vendetta that is seemingly inate due to my Sicilian half.
if no, well.... here we are.
all things considered, i guess shit turned out alright. i may be miserable, but it's my misery... mine to work with and control. Unhappy people are unhappy for their own reasons, and thus they have their own identity. Happy people are all the same.... have the same outlook on life... exploit the same metaphors... thus they are all the same.
I apologize for the Hot Topicyness of that last observation.