Omnia Vincit Amor

Although, quite clearly it will not.

Tonight, therefore, and on more than one previous night, I find myself thinking about casual sex, as preferable, and casual love.

This is a new concept to me.  Acquiring love for the convenience of not being alone.  Then I scream again.  This is precisely the behaviour I abhor in B.  Her love is casual and now she is all tied up and neither of us can make the more spritually satisfying connection that we would have had together.  This is entirely her fault because I come with no ties and was the romantic utterly willing to throw myself into a life with B.  Except we’ll never know if I was now, because it didn’t happen.

Strangely, tonight, that last sentence doesn’t come as a lament, but rather a statement of cold fact.  A degree of resignation that B and I would not have worked together anyway, and the pain that we caused each other (look at this, now I can say ‘that we brought each other!’, not only blaming her), I can acknowledge now, was not merely a product of circumstance, but our nature.  An augur of what would have been?

(after: Caravaggio)


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