Tuesday, February 19, 2008

I'm not a crier.

I've never been much of a crier. I am very much secure with my manhood, and I will be the first to admit that certain movies set me off - Joy Luck Club, for one, any movie that involves lifetimes of strained relationships between sons and their fathers, for another. But in real life, I just don't cry. Perhaps it's a protective shell I've always tried to build around myself, a sort of nonchalant iciness, but when I finally do break, I'm a big mess, it is at the point where I literally can't handle life anymore.

I'm not at that point now. I'm not happy, that's for sure, but I am not exactly in despair. I am in limbo. I am passive. I am useless. And I'm not pleased about it.

It's so much, really. I'm still at the point in my career where I can't exactly advance forward. But I'm also not given the opportunities to really showcase my talent, the talent that was recognized and lauded in my previous job, and the talent that I was ultimately hired for in my current job.

And I'm fucking tired of the dating scene. I'm tired of playing the game. I'm tired of not being in love. I'm tired of being alone. But women my age aren't. Women my age play their games all while lamenting the fact that they have to. Women my age aren't into me and I've thought long and hard about it, and it's not my fault. Women beyond my age value the traits that I possess, but cannot look past my age and my youthful faults (of which are many). And again, I find myself in a passive purgatory of hope and wish and... waiting.


And in a sense, this is what it all comes down to.

Waiting...

...to be useful.

...to be active.

...to cry.

3 comments:

The Millionizer said...

is this what you meant by your comment? i'm waiting too man.

eddo said...

Nope, I was waiting for you to write an entry about your weekend in SF.... ;)

Omid Abroad said...

Quoth Yoda: The cougar you seek, yes. Make me cry, the cougar did, yes. Tears not of sadness but joy. Mmmm...?