Completely unaware of @metroadlib’s Twitter imperative, I made a list of my past “dalliances” in order, with some basic information about them and, most importantly, a brief explanation of the circumstances surrounding our coming together (yep, enjoy that). (No idea why I felt like doing this, my sexual predilections do not resemble a scatter plot.) Fooler’s prediction that this activity would create a need for a strong drink was positively clairvoyant.
Perhaps the most peculiar thing about this curious case of the blues is that it isn’t in response to a high number* or anything stupid like that; the circumstances column of the list tended to be more motivation-oriented rather than “well we met at Starbucks and bonded over music”. And my motivations make it very clear that I am not a nice person. I do not think very highly of people, I generally have little to no compunction about manipulating others, I have a rabidly vengeful side to me, and I honestly don’t give much of a fuck about anything. These are all things I knew, of course, but to be confronted with that information (replete with examples) was a bit unnerving.
I don’t have any apologies or regrets, but it’s obvious that this particular lifestyle has taught me all it will teach me. It’s time to stop being a caricature of myself, least of all, because it’s become extremely boring. Time to grow up.
*I wouldn’t know because I haven’t been asked since the eleventh grade, but is this “what’s your number” thing still going on?