othelladub's Diaryland Diary


was it worth it?

In the past 2 years, I've

had two semi-meaningful


with two very different women.

And I felt that both could - whatever the romantic result - end in good friendships, at least.

Maybe that's just not in my disposition. Maybe I'm doomed to have romantic feelings and mixed emotions. Maybe I want the best for them, I want them to be happy, but I miss the times when they liked me - when they enjoyed

my company/conversation/whatever.

As much I want to let go of huge chunks of this, it lingers. I'm over the concept of either situation ending in romantic bliss of any sort, but still - the hurt feelings remain.

I've assumed that this is all the result of not getting laid. But then, I've gotten laid since then, and this hasn't curbed the hurt.

I'm alternately hurt/angry/hurt/angry, and then tired. And then hurt and tired.

Then I have a good day or two.

Then something reminds me of "Sally A" or "Jessica B" and I hit a rough 15-minute patch.

Perhaps its all ego-related, and its based on the competitive male drive - as far as "losing" something. As if it were a game.

I'd like to think that I'm more mature than that, and that the origin actually resides in feelings of crushed friendship, and broken bonds. Of warmth lost, of a cheek I'll never again brush against.

Perhaps its all melodrama.

Pure 19-year old hyperbole.

Wanting to feel alive in a sterile, packaged, dull, muted world.

Maybe its all of these things, and more.

Maybe friendship and pain and fancy and ego and "competitive drive," pheromones, shared love of pop-culture, and phone memory are not all mutually exclusive.

Maybe the drives of human beings are beyond our complete understandings.

Maybe love has its own way, and woe be the man who defies it, or attempts to bend it, or break it, to his liking.

It is a powerful force. And I'll listen to the 19-year olds on this one.

It is enough.

If not, what the fuck is the use?


It was all worth it, and I don't regret a thing. I miss you. And I miss you.

And this must pass.

And in a few years I can cry over someone else. And it will still be worth it.

1:17 a.m. - 2003-04-11


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