opticnerve

I hate how cynical I've become. Well, how more cynical I've become. When I was with MJ, I used to save a lot of mundane items as mementos of our time together. You know, movie tickets to 'The Steps 2' where we made out like we were in high school, the receipt from the diner where we had our first breakfast together, a Scrabble tile from the Speed Scrabble game we played whilst waiting for our massage appointment at a spa resort I took her to. Immediately after we broke up, I got rid of a lot of that stuff, in an attempt to purge her memory from my life. I swore that I would never let anyone get that close again. I think this oath has led me to go out on not-so-serious dates and trysts, where I could have the pleasure of female company without having to get emotionally involved with the girl. It's been fine for the last year or so. I could be in close physical proximity to the lovely female form, while keeping my emotional distance the women I was with. A part of me, remembering how devastatingly shattered I was after MJ left, wants to maintain this wall of suspicion that I've erected around my supposedly fragile heart to prevent someone from breaking it again. Another part of me, though, yearns for the emotional equivalent of the East German swinging a sledgehammer in that famous photo taken at the base of the Berlin Wall the night it fell.