This is a long rambling diary post.  I’m not going to bother to edit it.  It’s not thoughtful, well crafted or organized.

We had been playing house since February.  Every spare moment she’d visit me, take care of me, hang around while I worked, make love with me or fuck me wild.

We’d been dating off and on for three years.  I’d been caught out being unfaithful three times, and after much thought decided to try being monogomous.  There was a background understanding that marriage and babies was a direction we could be heading in.

A bit to my surprise I found that even though I loved her, something core and essential about me could not change.  I valued my freedom as my life, and started to resent her showing up unannounced.  Once she was here, I liked it, but just that my free will was taken away by our social agreement frustrated me, and I was starting to resent her love as much as I appreciated it.

I also didn’t like how I had to bury and hide so much of my character – so much of my reason for living, what I find fundamentally important and real – my real me.  I had to bury and hide and never let get close to the surface that yes, I want to fuck other young pretty girls.

I couldn’t even try to inject a little space of a giggle about it.  “Can you help me send money to China?”  “What’s it for this time?”  “Oh, it’s for my girlfriend there.  But don’t worry, I haven’t seen her in years.”

That attempt at levity sent her into a panic as real as if she were watching a horror movie.  It didn’t have to be real – just the thought was scary enough to spike her blood pressure and kick off a round of obsessive compulsive ruminating.  The next day we were broken up.

She had good reasons to be insecure, and good reasons to break up.  How long is a girl expected to keep dating a guy, no matter how much she is in love with him, once she knows that they will never get married and have babies?

After that attempt at humor, an hour later she’s completely miserable, in great emotional anguish, and furiously typing away on her phone.  I just don’t want to deal with it.  At all.  I figure her happiness is her responsibility and she needs to find a way to come back into balance so that we can share happiness together.

It’s obviously quite rude to have a date and spend much of that time texting someone else.  This girl was horribly distraught, and was reaching out for help.  I had no idea if it was to a potential new lover, or to her male friend who acts as a confident and advisor.  I knew she was in pain and needed help, and wanted her to get it.  I came close to asking her to leave to go home until she could sort herself out before we meet again.

Girls often try to make a guy jealous to reassure themselves that the guy cares.  If she was playing a jealousy gambit on her phone, I wasn’t into it.  No fucking way was I going to play the game of even asking her who she was texting.  That’s her business.

And I just could not bring myself to reach out and try to comfort her.  She was being completely uncommunicative – at least to me – not any hint whatsoever to me why she was crying or what she was texting about.  Did I want to reward that with “oh baby, it’s alright, I love you, calm down”.  No, the whole scene frankly disgusted me; childish to the extreme.  I didn’t want to have ANYTHING to do with it.  At all.

I decided to wait her out and let her come to me when she was ready to talk.  She must have texted for at least an hour, and then silently fell asleep, covered up in a blanket and facing away from me.

Thankfully she found a peaceful smile in her sleep.  I injected some prescribed ketamine in a well researched attempt to heal my chronic gastritis.  That stuff is incredibly weird.  The first few times are very dissorienting – as if you were transplanted fresh – like a soul into a baby – into a fresh new weird universe and body.  Having everything be re-contextualized for me leads to the big questions.  As relationship was up, I had think about my self, how I am surviving and can continue to survive, and those that I love who love me.

I thought of my poor girl in pain.  In a flash I knew that I’m not a family man, but that such men exist.  I knew that it is simply not an option for me to take on the role of family man – even if I wanted babies with this woman, and even though I wanted her in my life long term.  It’s simply not an emotional option available to me.  There is nothing to repair or change – a rabbit is not an elephant is not a fish.  I’m not a family man and can’t become one.

As I got used to ketamine world, I found that I could still play piano, still walk, and even though I could not feel it, was still breathing just fine.  It was difficult to tell if sounds were real or hallucinations, but it semed they were just normal sounds recontextualized into the ketamine body, and probably not much of the sounds were exagerrated into hallucinations.

Hallucinating on ketamine was an option to explore if I wanted, but I wasn’t in the mood.  I felt into my heart chakra briefly, and realized I could explode into a chi-kung world of drama and emotion if wanted to enter that space.  Didn’t go there.  I opted out of any sort of chi-kung attention.  That can get overwhelming, and on my second trip was no master of ketamine space ready to dive into that particular unknown.  Low drama.  Just hang out.  Be soulful, feel the big questions – see life from fresh eyes.

As I started to come down I wanted to commune with my mate, so gently woke her up with a hello.  I was still quite affected by ketamine.  I was ready to be emotionally open to her – unlike before when she was furiously typing away at her phone instead of talking to me, who was right there beside her.

Drugs can leave my mouth unfiltered.  With her I had to spend so much time filtering my thoughts, for fear if she knew how I really felt she’d leave me.  In my effort to show that I was empathetic and understanding of the pain she was going through, I restated something I’d read the day before, said from a girl who broke up with her boyfriend.  “I mean how long is a girl expected to stay with a guy once she knows they will never get married?”  I knew it was a tactical error, but it was already out of my mouth.  Then somehow the truth serum had me saying that I was not in the mood to work, that I just wanted to rest there until she left (as in broke up) with me.

She remained uncommunicative, and I told her it’s not fair that I’m always the one doing all the talking, and all she ever does is ask questions.  She said “I’m speechless”

The next day she broke up with me, saying that she wanted a family, and knew I’d never provide it.

She was strangely shut down emotionally and uncommicative, and it really was not clear to me what our new status was.  No matter how many times I asked, I could not get her to say it explicitly, and I had to say it for her; she was not going to fuck me anymore.

One day she’s devoted and attentive and in love, if a bit clingy and insecure.

Two days later she’s blocked my contact on her phone.

That made me re-evaluate my idea that my lifestyle is like a vampire, feeding off of the best years of young women’s lives, giving them ultimately pain, for my benefit.

I was right all along.  Love is war, and very rarely is there long term mutual alliance.  Men and women have fundamentally competing interests.

What if lions had empathy for rabbits?  What good would it do the lion?  Or the rabbit?  He still has to eat.

I still need love and sex.  Knowing that this will cause pain can’t change that.  I’m a lion – and I need to eat.

Girls are no less selfish and no less driven by their agendas.  This girl knows that I’m in love with her and that it will hurt me horribly to stop seeing me.  She knows that there is an inevitable cruelty in leaving me to pursue having a family.

And girls can be WAY colder than guys – ice cold.  Not only can they go ghost, if they feel hurt they can get vindictive in ways that no guy would ever in his wildest dreams imagine.  They can be incredibly hurtful, both through neglect and deliberate torture.

Every day that I wake up I wake to pain.  I miss this girl like hell.

And she’s a very sensitive girl, and I know is going through something very similar.  We were bonded mates and best friends and lovers who spent near all of our time together.

Sure, there are plenty of fish in the sea, but even though I’m currently having sex and currently have another girl who loves me and have other options, relationships are unique.

Which actually brings me to the point of this post, and the reason to write down the whole narrative.

After we broke up we met for a bit and I got fucking furious, because she pulled this childish girl trick of invalidating all of my self and my feelings with this shitty “but that’s not how I feel” maneover.

She always called me Daddy, and liked it.  It gave us a special connection.  She absolutely hated it that I also do that with other girls, and told me that to her that totally invalidated the whole game.  If I felt that way with another girl it could never have been real with her.  If I could love another girl, then any love for her could not possible be “real”.  Ex girlfriends were excluded, and she decided to leave it ambiguous how many minutes must pass between one real love and the next for the next one to be able to become real.

I mentioned the metaphor of what if a real child said to a real parent “I don’t believe that you love me, because you also love my sister”.  And all she could do was say that’s not the same and try to change the subject as quickly as possible.

It made me fucking furious.  I really did love that girl, as a daughter.  For real.  None of HER feelings could change that.  It made no difference whatsoever if to her my love was not real because I could also love others.

It’s completely Borderline Personality Disordered insane – total lack of boundaries between self and other.

“Well, I don’t feel loved, therefore you don’t love me”

Completely invalidate me down to my core – stripping away – quite litterally – my soul.

My love is my soul, and she would so casually and contemptuously and arrogantly tell me that I don’t have a soul, just because she wants me to be incapable of loving anyone other than her.

God I hate that.

That’s a stupid trick so many girls try to use.

“Oh, reality does not fit in with my emotional needs, so reality is wrong”.

Which again gets back to why I really started to resent her.  I don’t mind a girl being jealous.  It’s normal.  I can even put up with a little bit of controlling behaviour in the name of jealousy.  But it’s when that jealousy is normalized as the only real and valid agenda that really bothers me.

Totally invalidates me and my reality and my world.

Sure, she can spout off that I’m free to be me, just not with her, and wave her hand away as if that means she’s not invalidating my core essence.  But it doesn’t work that way.  When I fuck her and she squirts and squirts and we are having the very real religious experiences that only deeply bonded lovers have, she refuses to allow me to be me – for my world to exist.

I do love her, for real, and she knows and feels it.  And she can also have sisters and that changes NOTHING between us.

Because that doesn’t fit in with her evolved agenda, her brain will absolutely not allow those thoughts to be real and true, and therefore not allow me to be real and true.

The only way I was able to spend any time with her at all was to basically lie about who I was – constantly – every minute.  I could not even let my fucking phone ring without it totally freaking her out.  Granted, being caught cheating three times is enough to give a girl in love post traumatic stress disorder, and she was merely trying to protect her property and ground and future.  But still – a little humor please?  Yes, I want to fuck other gils, and no, it does not in any way change or diminish my real feelings.

God, that really fucking bothers me.  Not all girls are like that.  In fact it’s one reason I kind of prefer high socio-sexual score girls.  They might be a higher infidelity risk, but at least they have sympathy for the real human condition.

Monogomy and love have absolutely NOTHING to do with each other.  Sometimes by coincidence they happen at the same time, but there is no causality there.

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