(I will fill your void, Ch. 39)
(I will fill your void, Ch. 39)
When you are feeling down & blue,
I will always be there for you.
When the sun won't come out and shine,
I'll bring you lightbulbs - the indoor sunshine lighting kind.
Those days when the piano just sounds out of key,
You can come laugh at my singing - at karaoke!
If you're ever caught wearing some mis-matched socks,
I'll remind you your brain's still bigger than most jocks'.
If having an impact is what you are trying to do,
Don't get discouraged by those short-sighted few.
And when you get shut down & out from him once again,
Always know that I will be your friend.
Okay. So there we go. What a cute (pathetic) little rhyme. I knoooowww!!! Talk about cheesey. But I gotta just say this: How frustrating must it be for a guy who is so stupidly reasonable, patient, open, & do I daresay lonely, to be frustrated by women time & time again. I am not speaking of myself, or any one man in particular, but rather, of all the good guys out there that just can't seem to find themselves in any sort of substantial relationship in his past decade of living. What is it that we (yes, I include myself in this group) are missing? How many *ahem* short-comings have to accumulate before the self-esteem of these men is driven so low that they terminally resign themselves to the fact that they will likely be alone forever? A guy can only put himself out there so much, you know (unless he's a dancer, I think), and when he lacks the resources like: charm, good looks, personality, style, or depth (or length) ((what?!)), what really can he do? Alcohol. (well, duh!!)
I try to convince myself that men really shouldn't need liquid courage in order to talk to the opposite sex. Genuine relationships that might last are based out of first impressions, true; but also, if those first impressions are essentially skewed by babbling alcohol-induced nonsense, then what would a woman with a cool & collected head on her shoulders really see in that? The only chance that the pair really even has is that she is already SOOO effing loaded, that she doesn't see him as an afraid little boy without a clue in his mind as to what he might possibly have to offer her, but rather just go for that One Good F*#@. Then again, I am drinking right now, so all of this is really a bunch of shit.
So as a result this is what you see: middle-aged middle-class career-minded single men, that only can dream of the day that they have enough money in their bank accounts to attract some piece of hot tail half their age. No kidding. If that's not the case, you see the most reasonable of men lowering their standards to such a level that they impregnate the next woman that'll spread'm for him. Like come on! Maybe I am wrong in that these men in fact ARE realizing their own maximum potential and enjoying what they can, while they are still young enough to enjoy anything at all, without the arthritis creeping in, that is...
But as for me, in the meantime, I will continue to go around filling the voids that are in her life. I will be that friend - that confidant and muse. I will tell her funny stories and listen to her complain about the weather. I will be that shoulder for her to cry on and that wallet that can always afford that 1 extra drink @ closing time. A whore, essentially. It's exhausting. She knows it too, but just the same, feels like she owes him nothing more than the occasional phone call or text (which she is perfectly right about, by the way). Even though she thinks about him more than she cares to admit. One day though, as persistent patience plays itself out, he will truly find That One that he has always dreamt about all his life. And when it happens, he won't understand how, why, who, what things in all of thuniverse could have possbily transpired to get him - them - to this stage. Especially after all of this time. All of this patience. And headaches. Loneliness.
(what an emo-ass whiny little bitch - like FUCK. note to self: drink mickey of rum to self this weekend.)