Stimbo, you're meeting the wrong kinds. I happen to think you're great.
:-)
But you have to think it. Therein might lie the problem.
***hugs***
:-)
But you have to think it. Therein might lie the problem.
***hugs***
I've had it
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Stimbo, you're meeting the wrong kinds. I happen to think you're great.
:-) But you have to think it. Therein might lie the problem. ***hugs***
If I could, I'd wrap myself in you a thousand times. Live friend. Just live. Deadlines are easy to extend.
Here I am, 20 years after my first suicidal deadlines, and still I go on. Is this how we're built?
To be honest, I do get days when I see, and to an extent feel, the positives. Like now for instance, I'm on something of a high point of the rollercoaster. What amplifies how I feel about this, I think, is the isolation and the routine monotony (is there a Mono Tony, I wonder? Does he have a cousin named Duo or Stereo?). It's a self-reinforcing cycle; when I need companionship the most is precisely when I can't find it in myself to believe I can deserve it, let alone find it. Breaking that cycle seems as impossibly unlikely to me as going out to satisfy a deep, gut-wrenching craving for a dodo steak.
I know what you're all probably going to say, but deep down inside, in the room next to the locked one containing my Sam-shaped hole, I crave Shell's companionship so much. She is only the second lady I've ever been intimately close with (though Sam and I did meet some new friends at our club back in the day, I never went 'all the way' with anyone else). Now of course she represents 100% of my intimate life. It's really confusing.
At the age of five, Skagra decided emphatically that God did not exist. This revelation tends to make most people in the universe who have it react in one of two ways - with relief or with despair. Only Skagra responded to it by thinking, 'Wait a second. That means there's a situation vacant.'
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