The moment of clarity. The time when you sit down with yourself and say, “Thank God I went with my gut.” Do you have them often? I know I don’t. Most of the time, I am lucky that my bouncing around the universe and countless shenanigans are not so completely crazy that I end up in a mental hospital. But oh, for the first time in a long time, it feels good to be Right!
All my whiny posts, have led me to this moment. Clarity. I don’t get it often, but I am thankful when I do. I recently spoke about an ex-lover and writing partner, who I used to get excited over every time he reappeared, even after countless ghosting. The Literary. All too damn predictable. Not ONLY did he ghost me for what seems the thousandth time, but I honestly am finally NOT surprised and definitely NOT hurt by it. This NEED he had to stay in contact with me yesterday, was an all to familiar song and dance. A song and dance in which I always end up being the only one left on the dance floor, wondering where my partner went.
I guess the only question I ask myself is WHY??? Why do people ghost? Why are there zombies too? (The ones that resurrect and come back from oblivion to haunt you). I guess the only thing I can comfort myself with is that he is too young and immature to handle a commitment, (even though I wasn’t really interested in a romantic one this time). But isn’t that a little unfair to the younger generation? I know there are plenty of young people who can commit and handle a partnership, so what the hell is this guy’s problem?
Eh, it doesn’t matter, I just wanted to vent. I didn’t even want to write with him anyway, I had made my mind up about that. I am glad I trusted my instincts and didn’t get sucked into his game again. It is so, so sad though. How people just run through life, making connections and just becoming a perpetual ghost. Like an absolute dick, and repeat offender kind of ghost. Wherever the Literary is, I feel sorry for him. He will never be able to find joy in life. But that doesn’t hold weight on my shoulders any longer. “I have exorcised the demon!” Haha.
Tonight was one of the best nights I have had in a long time. The Captain was not only by my side, but we got to completely geek out on a monster of a marathon of nothing but Star Trek. That’s right! 48 hours of Star Trek movies on Starz/Encore this weekend, and it was SO much FUN reliving part of the wonder of my childhood with my current squeeze. We watched Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, laughed and joked about, “Double dumb ass on you!” “Nuclear Wessels,” and “They are not the Hell your Whales.” Then it was followed by a massive critique of Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, in which we agreed on many of the faults, but also some of the great parts of humor and fun of the movie. It was a shame they tried to make it a “forced spiritual, brainwashing” type of plot. There is no room in Star Trek for any of that.
Anyway, I haven’t forgotten about my hunt for the ultimate, creative writing partner. I reached out to someone who wanted a “Rogue One” type plot, and that seemed perfect, but he never responded to my message. I guess he was scared off because I mentioned I like a heavy amount of story and not a lot of sleazy writing, sex and smut. Where the hell are all the good collaborative writers? Why is it that even in the writing community, guys want to just jack off, even when making a story? Ugh it’s so frustrating. Why not write with a woman you might ask? Well, I guess, I like the flirting, the tease, the anticipation, and the hint of sexuality. Hell, I might go all the way in. But it has to be done right, with care and patience, with a very engaging story, and a dialogue in the literature you are creating that speeds up the heart rate and tingle the senses. Not just sitting at your desk, writing about fucking blowjobs.
My patience is truly being tested, but I know I shall prevail.
Hopefully, that ultimate writer is out there waiting for me to message him.
The hunt continues.