This is an update from the author written March 15th. A vow of celibacy has led to a larger outlook on things, here’s some of the insight she gained over the course of it.

For those of you who may not personally know me, simply put: I am an asshole.

One with the promise and desire to have some basic type of loving and stable relationship. The type of asshole that will make you forget the previous jerks only to lead you to a new level of self-depreciation and sorrow. The worst kind of douche who actually cares about you but can’t stop caring about themselves long enough to prove your worth. Women mistakenly see it different at first. They see someone nice, and passionate. Someone who may provide them with everything they’ve ever wanted. Their narrow scopes sight my better qualities:

Ambition.

Compassion.

Intellect.

Self-sacrificing and people pleasing behaviors.

They miss the constantly moving train fueled by emotional struggle and passion. They just see it as some big Hogwarts Express that leads to the promised land. I’m not saying it couldn’t be. The problem is, I tend to purposely derail it. Quick enough to fool them from realizing what it contains. When they’re finally let aboard, they wish they’d have been left at the first station.

All-aboard!

Watch your step.

The women who bought the tickets and waited out for change from me probably resent much of that time. They’ve been left with nothing but the same life lesson they’ve been force-fed repeatedly: If you allow someone to view your vulnerabilities, they will probe every inch you’ve exposed. No one is worth it. Definitely not myself. Unless you enjoy submissive, passive-agressive narcissists. If you happen to be a dominating authority figure whom enjoys directing someone’s day-to-day decisions and feeding their ego but lack a large amount of self-respect, send me an e-mail. Otherwise, go find someone normal who will treat you like a human. Someone willing to accept monogamy, and not some twisted one-sided version of it. Someone willing to treat you equal, because it honestly will probably never be me.

Imagining one woman forever terrifies me enough to understand why six-year olds beg their fathers to check under their beds and in their closets for the boogeyman. Some days, I wish my Father would fly up from Florida to give me clearance and a reflective sense of self, but he’s just as lady crazy. Where do you think I get it from? He’d most likely give me advice to continue on, spoon-feeding girls the notion that something will change and they will be a motivating factor in said change.

He really does believe that one of them someday may be. He thinks one will come along one day and that I will instinctively realize to treat her different. Deep down, I think he also knows as well as I do that, that will not happen again. At least not until some real structure has been rebuilt.

The only true woman to ever evoke that progression came about after taking my Mothers advice. Never again. Not for the sake that it was a train wreck, because it initially was the greatest thing to ever happen to me. The fact that it almost derailed my entire person and took every ounce of independent strength I had to keep from crashing face first into a fiery mess of destruction definitely plays a role.

Hell, I still spend days off avoiding her memories. They will never be completely buried. Always resurfacing. I’m learning to distance from them faster but they’ll always be there. For that reason I will never allow myself to fold again. Never will I revoke my thoughts, or place all trust and planning into one person again. Learning to find that balance alone again is too difficult and time-consuming. In the words of a famous internet meme, ain’t nobody got time fo’ that. The worst part about a break-up, is you truly don’t realize the gravity of everything you had until it’s gone. I know, that’s one of the oldest sayings in the books but until that moment came and I became detached from earths surface did it stick. To go back and dwell on possible fixes is pointless. Nothing is going to fix something that damaged except a fucking firestorm that embraces everything on its path. But really, that’s just starting from ground zero again.

In all honesty, I want to love again.

Someday.

Maybe.

Fully.

When I’m ready. Which at this point feels like it may never come. Plenty of women have entered my life since. Many of them pretty. Most of them nice. Some of them crazy (I am attracted to crazy, yeah..). All of them with lots to offer. A few of them I actually liked. Enough to take them to dinner at least. Funny though, the ones that really sparked any interest wanted nothing to do with me besides sex. That’s probably karma.

That bitch.

The laws of it will never allow me to have anything nice, but who’s the blame for that?

Right..

I’m maintaining my position as single for a while. But again, if you happen to be a dominating authority figure whom enjoys directing someone’s day-to-day decisions and feeding their ego but lack a large amount of self-respect, send me an e-mail (samkosho@gmail.com).We could have something beautiful.