Sometimes life goes along quite fine and dandy. Sometimes, like yesterday, I realize how truly separate I am from the world around me. How is it that I and the people who surround me are all categorized as humans? I look like them, yes, my body functions like theirs, but I feel so separate. Surely we are not the same thing.
Sometimes I am reminded of how far I am from finding my place in the world. I realize how little I relate to other people. Frankly, I don’t even want to relate to them. Why? Well, in all honesty, I don’t think I like them too much. They seem shallow, negative, and downright cruel at times.
How is it, that in this sea of unfathomable yuck, I am supposed to find a partner? How is it, than in this world that’s all about being “in it to win it,” I am supposed to find an intelligence and kindness that can gel with what I have too offer?
Work is hard, but fine. I like my coworkers very much indeed. My customers? Meh… but I can deal with them. It’s my search for a partner that causes me so much frustration. I feel like I’ve been looking forever. I know part of the problem is that I want one too much. I try too hard. But to find another alien who I could cuddle up on the couch with and hide from the outside world? I think nothing would give me more peace. Yet, with a an almost violent passion, I have wanted nothing more than someone to hold my hand in solidarity. I wanted the “you and me against the world” thing. I wanted the “I’ll catch you when you fall” guy. I wanted to be someone’s, as they say these days, “ride or die bitch” (though I am nobody’s “bitch” — that’s vulgar, I’m just trying to relay a concept).
And when I try to explain myself, I am confronted with the same psychobabble over and over again: “you got to love yourself first.” Why does that phrase always burn me up the way it does? “Shut the fuck up,” I feel like replying, “do you know any other words besides those you learn on Dr Phil?” Let’s try something that’s at least vaguely original, shall we? I am so tired of troglodytes regurgitating that cringeworthy catchphrase to me time and time again. I DO love me. I think I’m an amazing woman with so much heart and intelligence. I think I would make the most wonderful partner to someone who is worthy of me. But my search continues. My feet are tired and I feel so weary.
Is there any intelligent life out there?