I Can Only Imagine (for KW)

It's very hard for me to admit this: when you caught me - that's the badger in you - I felt...nothing.  In fact, that absence of feeling anything at all is what truly shocked me.  I told myself it would hit me later, then - when it didn't - I made pretend (even to myself) that I was devastated.

  I confessed to everyone (including the bishop).  Tears flowed like rivers.  A few of them even cried themselves.  I almost had myself convinced.

Finally, I chalked it up to the truth:  I simply do not understand most of the things I do.  I'm not a bad person.  I'm generally polite and helpful if needed, and I'm the Patron Saint of Broken Bipeds in Emotionally Disarray, but I just fail to connect to someone else the way most people can, and do.  This is why I've always known that I was destined to be alone in my life.

I liked dating when I was a kid, but the whole point of dating is that it's fun.  You go to horror movies and eat pizza.  You drink beer in the park, and roll around in the bushes.  You go out dancing simply to get to grind into each other so that, later, both of you are suitably frustrated by the time you get home and feel like you've just gone ten rounds with a giant squid.  Dating was easy, and I was cute, so I did a lot of it.  It's only when I got older and people expected more of me that I began to understand that I was different.

Oh, the sex was fun - it was the only thing better than dating - but it seems that if you have sex with someone more than three times (and, for some reason, three times is pretty accurate), you were automatically signed-up as A Thing, A Couple.  The person you had sex with three times stops asking you to do things - they just assume that you are going to be with them after work every day, and to spend the weekend until you get married, and learned to hate and revolt each other.

If three times was the rule for being in a relationship, I developed the pattern of going on for three months before walking away.  Three months of it was about all I could stand.  I get tired of feeling like I have a conjoined twin stuck on my ass, and I end it for no real reason other than I am bored and sick of it.

I can only imagine how badly you must feel, and that's the problem - I can only imagine it.  If I could do anything to mend you, if I were able to do whatever that might be, I would.  You're, still, a valuable person I want the best for, believe it or not, and maybe one day you'll understand what I can't.

Again, I'm sorry, but you must admit the hours we spent together were not wasted on either of us.  We did good things for each other.